What Happened at the Forensics Conference
by KatherineAliceBeckettCullen
Summary: What would have happened to Sara if SWAT had gotten there just a few seconds later? Inspired by the events of episode 1505, "Girls Gone Wilder". Possibly AU after that (it depends on how the episodes/season goes). Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a CSI fanfiction. Until now, I've only written Castle related stories, but this week's episode caught my interest and I just had to write. For now, the story will be focusing on the events that happened in the hotel during episode 1505 "Girls Gone Wilder", which means we will only see things from Sara and Finn's POV. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not and probably will not own anything in the CSI universe. No copyright infringement is intended.**

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

Sara wasn't thrilled to be attending this particular presentation. Dr. Jane Snyder was probably the last person she wanted to listen to right now. Especially after the way she'd acted in the lobby. Her self-promotional attitude and general me-ness had grated Sara's patience to say the least. And then there was the way Dr. Jane had brought up the time she'd skewered Sara's trainee on his first trip to the witness stand. Sara wasn't entirely sure if she should forgive Morgan for signing them up for this.

Morgan was trying to be encouraging as they sat down. "Come on."

Sara sat down with Morgan on her right. A dark-haired woman grabbed the seatback of the chair next to Morgan. "Hey Morgan, is anyone sitting here?"

Morgan smiled and shook her head. "It's all yours."

Sara kept her attention on her phone until the house lights dimmed, dramatic music started to play, and strobe lights on the stage started to flicker. Men in jeans and white lab coats walked toward the stage in a line, followed by Dr. Snyder and a few more men. The audience began to applaud the way you might when a theater performance began. The men in lab coats arranged themselves on the stage, hands behind their backs with Dr. Snyder at center stage.

Sara was credulous. "Strobe lights? Really?"

Morgan shrugged with her hands, excitement on her face. "I told you, she puts on a good show."

Sara looked at Morgan briefly before turning her attention to the stage where Dr. Snyder was beginning her presentation. "I am Dr. Jane Snyder."

The audience applauded again, a few people calling out "Yeah!" like they were at a sporting event. Dr. Snyder laughed and then continued. "Thank you! I am so excited to be here to teach you how to defend your evidence."

Sara sighed, resigning herself to sit through this presentation no matter how much she wanted to be somewhere else. "First and foremost, the court room is a stage. And it is your job to perform!"

Dr. Snyder threw her hands in the air as different music came on and the men on the stage with her broke into stripper dances. They popped open their lab coats or removed them entirely to reveal six-pack abs and chiseled chests. Women in the audience shrieked in delight at the show.

Sara couldn't believe her eyes. "Oh. My. God."

Next to Sara, Morgan laughed. Several people in the audience now had their phones out to record the performance. Dr. Snyder was dancing with the men, though not nearly as provocatively.

The sound of a gunshot rang out and one of the male dancers jerked as he was struck with the fired bullet. Two more shots quickly followed and at least one hit the same dancer. Sara's head whipped from facing the stage toward the open side door to see a man with a stocky build and long hair standing in the doorway with an assault rifle in his hands. Bullets continued to pour into the room in bursts of one or two shots. Sara grabbed Morgan's arm and the two of them hit the floor like many others. People screamed in panic, but the shots didn't let up. Now the gunman was starting to shoot into the rest of the room. Chaos reigned as people tried to get out of the line of fire. Glass broke and cascaded to the floor as a vase, display, and glassware around the room were hit with bullets. Morgan's friend tried to make a run for it.

"Vicki, no!" Morgan's head popped up briefly until the sound of another gunshot forced her to duck again. Vicki was hit and collapsed. Morgan moved to crawl forward, but Sara's hand on her back stopped her. "Vicki!"

Sara's head was rabbiting up and down, trying to capture as many details as she could to aid in the investigation later without getting shot in the process. The gunman had long blonde hair and was carrying what looked and sounded like an AR-15. He was by the side door and had come in just a couple minutes after the presentation had started, meaning he entered and started shooting at 4:17pm. Along the back wall, another attendee tried to make a dash for the back door and was shot down too."

Just after the man fell, the gunman stopped firing and ran for the back door. Sara's ears were ringing. She looked around the conference room. People were crouched behind chairs or sprawled on the floor either injured or trying to play dead. Most importantly, the gunman was nowhere in sight.

"It's all right." Sara started to stand and some people started to move again. "It's over." Sara could see that they were no longer in immediate danger. "It's clear! It's clear."

One attendee stood and headed for the door. "I'll go get some help."

As he left, most of the rest of the audience rushed for the doors, eager to get away from what was now a crime scene. Dr. Snyder extracted herself from under the body of the dead dancer with a gasp of horror, her previously clean outfit now splattered and stained with his blood. Morgan finally stood, shock and fear clearly written across her face. She spotted her friend and a sob crossed her lips. She rushed to Vicki's side, desperate to help her fallen friend.

"Vicki! Hey. Just hang on, okay?"

Sara raised her phone to her ear to call it in. "This is CSI Sidle. There's been a mass shooting at the Mediterranean Hotel forensics conference. Roll paramedics and PD. Code three!"

Morgan had started CPR to try and revive her friend. She was sobbing, her body knowing Vicki was gone but her mind refusing to accept it. "Come on! Come on! Come on!"

Sara could sense what Morgan couldn't accept and moved to intervene. "Morgan…"

Morgan checked for breathing again. "Come on. Come on."

"Morgan." Sara saw the empty look in Vicki's eyes and knew it was far too late.

"Please, come on."

Sara's voice was gentle. "She's gone."

Morgan continued chest compressions. "You're good. You're good." She checked for breathing again.

"Morgan…"

Morgan sobbed again. "Come on."

Sara grabbed her colleague's shoulder gently. "Morgan, she's gone. She's gone." Morgan finally stopped trying to save Vicki, defeat and pain in her eyes. "Morgan! Look at me!" Sara was starting to get concerned for Morgan's wellbeing when she wasn't responding. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Morgan's voice was eerily calm when she responded, brushing her hair out of her face with the back of a bloodied hand. "No." She looked down at her hands, saw the blood and started to panic as she sobbed. Anger suddenly surged through the blonde's features. "What the hell just happened?"

Sara looked around the room again and the horror of what she saw was reflected in her eyes as she responded without words. Three people were dead, more injured, most of the others still present were either despondent or helping the injured. None of this was something anyone expected would happen when they came to the conference today.

Morgan was finally snapping into work mode. "How many shooters were there?"

Sara responded in kind. "Just one. An assault rifle. It looked like an AR-15."

Morgan was surprised. "So you saw him?"

Sara choked on her words as emotions started to fight for control of her reactions. "He went out the back door. I'm gonna call Finn." Sara pulled out her phone again and dialed the number. It just rang and rang, eventually dumping to voicemail. Sara left a quick warning to be on the lookout and to be careful. With that done, Sara called Russell.

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><p>Finn loved the way she could flirt with Mark and know that nothing was taken very seriously. After two marriages that had ended in divorce, she had started to see serious relationships as pointless and painful endeavors that were best left to others to enjoy. Right now they were boarding an elevator to head up to one of their rooms while discussing their favorite football teams.<p>

Being from Boston meant that Mark was a Patriot fan. "Admit it, Russell Wilson is no Tom Brady."

"You're just saying that because he's married to a supermodel."

"No, I'm saying that because he has three Super Bowl rings. And he's married to a supermodel."

Finn moved in like she was going to kiss him, but shot a playful zinger at Mark instead. "Yeah, well, at least my team doesn't cheat."

Mark looked a little hurt. "Ouch. You really know how to hurt a guy."

Finn smirked a little and leaned in some more. "Aww, poor baby." They were about to kiss when her phone started to buzz.

Finn looked down at it, saw that Sara was the caller and decided to ignore the call. She knew they were at a forensics conference and she was supposed to be paying attention, but a bed was calling their names and she wasn't about to pass up the chance to have hot, casual sex with Mark.

"No?" Mark was checking if they were still "in the mood" or if the phone was going to interrupt.

She shook her head. "No." They chuckled as they turned their attention back to each other and let the phone go to voicemail. They kissed until the elevator car stopped at a floor and hurriedly broke apart to ensure any incoming passengers wouldn't be embarrassed by their PDA.

The doors opened and a man walking passed the elevator paused and looked at them. Finn and Mark looked back; Finn noticed he had long blonde hair and was carrying a large gun. After a moment of everyone looking at each other, the man raised his gun and pointed it at them. Finn was reaching into her purse for her gun on instinct even though it wasn't there. Mark yelled, "No!" and threw himself in between Finn and the gunman while trying to pull her to the floor and out of the way. The man started firing, his bullets missing them but hitting the elevator wall and bouncing off to become deadly and unpredictable projectiles. Thankfully, the elevator doors closed before the shooter could get off very many shots.

Finn and Mark ended up kneeling on the floor of the elevator embracing each other. They pulled apart moments later to look at the other. Finn was breathing heavily from fear. Mark looked down and saw blood on his shirt. Finn saw it too and then felt a wet spot on the front of her blouse; she quickly checked it to find she was unharmed, but there was blood on her blouse. She looked at Mark, her eyes zeroing in on the wound to his abdomen again and realizing that was the source.

Mark was concerned about the blood on her torso. "Are you…" He was crawling back to lean against a wall, pain coloring his voice.

"Yeah, I'm okay. That doesn't look good." Now that he knew she was fine, the full force of his injury came to the front of his mind and he groaned, eyes squeezed shut against the sudden rush of pain. Finn hurried to grab the scarf from her purse and passed it to him. "Here, hold this really tight."

His hand covered hers over the wadded scarf and pressed it to his wound, still groaning from the pain. Finn went back to her purse and retrieved her phone to call for help. The elevator groaned and the lights flickered before plunging them into darkness.

Finn was distraught that in the midst of an already bad situation, one more thing had gone wrong. "Oh, no!" They were trapped.

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><p>The paramedics, SWAT officers, and PD had finally shown up. First SWAT secured the scene and then the paramedics moved in to assist the wounded. The coroners came in as well to collect the dead. Morgan had been called back to lab by Russell, but Sara decided to stay behind and help collect any evidence that might help them identify the shooter. She's given her statement to Ecklie over the phone and grabbed supplies from the nearby vendor's tables. The police and paramedics were swarming the room taking statements and helping the wounded. Radio chatter filled the air as Sara clipped her crime lab I.D. to one pant pocket and then her holster and gun on her right hip.<p>

Someone to her right was getting treated. "Let's go ahead and set her up."

The phone on her left hip started to ring. Sara pulled it out of its holster to see the caller was Russell. "Hi." She felt like a kid who'd just been caught were she didn't belong.

Russell didn't sound happy. "_SWAT leader just called me and told me you refused to evacuate. I told you to get out of there._"

Sara wasn't willing to budge. "Shooter came in through the side door. I'm hoping he left a print. I grabbed supplies from the venders…"

"_Sara, the shooter is still in the building. Look, you survived once today. Please don't push your luck_."

"SWAT has cleared the room. There's deputies posted. There's no way he's getting back in here. I can help, Russell. Please, I need to do something."

Russell finally gave in. "_All right, all right, all right. Just…be careful and get out of there as soon as you can._"

"I will." Worry clouded Sara's voice as she continued. "Listen, I just talked to Finn. Her friend's in bad shape."

"_I know that. I know, I know. Engineering is on standby. They'll get them out as soon as it's safe_."

Sara realized there was nothing she could do on that front. "Okay." She ended the call and got to work processing the scene, starting with that side door.

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><p><strong>AN: For my readers that read my Castle related Shadow Fox stories, don't worry, I won't be postponing that story to focus on this one. For everyone else, please leave a comment in the box below to let me know what you thought! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank ChangingbacktoBellamort500, phnxgrl, Dee, was spratlurid quimby, RosePetel7, Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, Luvfanatic ****and Love ****for their reviews. Loving all the reviews; it's a great way to start off a new story. Luvfanatic: you might want to watch the episode before you get much farther in this, though it's not necessary to follow along. I just don't want to spoil anything for you. Love: I'm going to have to confess ignorance about what a snickers story is. Maybe you can clarify that for me.**

**This chapter starts with Finn and Mark in the elevator. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

Emergency lights had finally come on and now the elevator was bathed in dim lights. Finn was back on the phone trying to get dispatch to free them from the elevator so Mark could get to a hospital. He was still losing blood despite the scarf and pressure which meant something important had been hit.

The operator was not being helpful. "_I'm sorry, ma'am, there's a gunman in the building._"

"I know there is a gunman. He just shot my friend! Okay? You need to get us out of the elevator now."

"_We have to secure the area first. Stay with him._"

Finn was trying very hard not to panic. "I am doing the best that I can, but if I do not get him to the hospital soon, he is going to bleed to death."

"_They can't get in there until its clear ma'am._"

"I understand! Will you just hurry?!" Finn ended the call and tried to give their situation the best spin for Mark. "They said they can't fix the elevator until they get the gunman. Which I'm sure is gonna be really soon."

Mark was breathing heavily, still in obvious pain, though shock appeared to be starting to set in. "Kind of romantic. Here with you. Dim lighting. This whole bleeding from the stomach thing is kind of killing the mood, isn't it?"

Finn had to agree with that assessment. "Yeah. You're losing way too much blood." Finn grabbed the bottom of her purse and turned it upside down, dumping the contents on the floor. She grabbed the tampon she always kept in there for emergencies and tore the package open with her teeth.

Mark was eyeing her like she was nuts as she worked it out of the package with one hand. "A tampon?"

"Believe it or not, these things were really used in the 19th century to plug bullet holes."

Finn tore his shirt open to reveal the hole a ricocheting bullet had punched through the skin on his side. Without warning, she stuck the tampon in the hole and deployed the absorbing pad. Mark grimaced and groaned with the sudden increase of pain.

"I'm sorry." Finn hated that she was the one causing him pain, but hopefully it would save his life.

Mark tried to be nonchalant. "So…you know sports and history."

Finn shrugged. "It's just basic first aid."

Mark shook his head. "You're doing great."

"Really wish I had gone through with my choice to go to med school right about now." Finn chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Mark groaned as she started taping a gauze pad over the wound. "I wish you did, too. Why didn't you?"

Finn tore open another package with her teeth and continued her treatment. "I took a lecture with this guy, Alec Jeffreys, on DNA fingerprinting, and that was it. I wanted to be a criminalist."

"I slept through a lot of lectures. Had a lot of fun, though." Mark was still breathing hard.

"Wish I knew you back then."

"Oh, come on, I'm still fun. Just wait till I get out of here."

Finn smiled; that was the attitude she wanted him to have. "I'll hold you to that. It's gonna be okay."

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><p>It felt like forever had passed before Finn's phone chimed with a text. At this point Mark was laying down, blood loss making him too weak to stay sitting anymore. She picked up the phone to see that Russell had texted to let them know the suspect had been taken down and they would soon be out of the elevator.<p>

"They got him." She was excited. "They're gonna get us out of here. Mark, can you hear me? They're coming to get you right now."

Shock had taken a toll on Mark; he was barely conscious and his eyes were having a hard time focusing on anything for long. "Celine."

Finn was confused. "What?"

"Dion. Show later."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess I'm more of a U2 kind of girl." Mark's eyes closed and Finn kept talking to try and get his attention again. "You know, uh, I saw them in Ireland."

His eyes slowly opened again. "Haven't been."

"What? To a U2 concert?"

"To Ireland."

Finn could tell he was getting weaker, so she kept talking to distract him from the pain. "Oh, it was amazing. I, uh, was there on a Eurail pass, and I was hanging out at a bar in Dublin, and all the sudden U2 walked right in and they…started…"

Mark's eye had slid closed again and his head lolled to the side as he passed out. Finn felt for a pulse at his neck but couldn't find one. "No! Oh, God! Mark?" Finn started chest compressions to try and revive him. "Come on, Come on. You can do it. Breathe, breathe. Mark, breathe!" She started to panic because he wasn't responding. "Mark?!"

The lights in the elevator flickered again before the whole thing whirred back to life and the doors opened. Just outside, paramedics were standing by to help. Finn sighed in relief at the sight of them.

"He just crashed! I didn't get a pulse."

The paramedics moved in to continue the lifesaving efforts. "All right, we'll take it from here."

"You got him?"

"Yeah." Finn stood as one of the paramedics took over CPR. "Get a line in here!"

She stood in the corner of the elevator watching, hoping her friend would pull through. "Breathe, Mark."

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><p>Morgan had called Sara to give her an update on the progress of the case while the brunette processed the conference room. "<em>Phoenix PD did a search of Lasky's house. Apparently he was obsessed with the man who murdered his wife and daughter three months ago. Uh, Luke Reaser.<em>"

Sara examined the bullet she'd just extracted from the wall. "Luke Reaser? I heard about that case. He raped them before he killed them, right? That was Lasky's family?"

"_Yeah, that's enough to put anyone over the edge._"

"Yeah, but Reaser was caught. He's awaiting trial. Why would Lasky go on a rampage today?"

"_Because Reaser shouldv'e been put behind bars a long time ago. He raped and murdered a teenage girl back in 2012 in Texas. Set the place on fire in order to cover his tracks. The evidence wasn't strong enough to convict._"

"So then he moves to Phoenix, where he murders Lasky's family. You know, Morgan, three of the CSI's that were killed today, they were from the crime lab in Dallas. Lasky must have blamed them for putting Reaser back on the street."

"_They're not the only ones he was gunning for. Guess who testified for the defense._"

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><p>Morgan told Sara that Lasky had sent several death threats via email to Dr. Snyder over a month prior to the conference. She also said that Phoenix PD had checked their records and confirmed Dr. Snyder had never reported Lasky's threats to them. Morgan had then ended the call by giving Sara the numbers to the Dallas crime lab and the PD near Dr. Snyder's home. Sara called the PD near Dr. Snyder's home first to inquire about the death threats. According to their records, Dr. Snyder had never reported a single threat to them, let alone one within the last two months.<p>

Sara's next call was to the Dallas crime lab so she could ask them about the Reaser case. Because the information might help the Vegas PD catch the man who had killed three of their colleagues, the Dallas crime lab was more than eager to give Sara the low down. Dr. Snyder had managed to discredit the work a DNA analyst did on the case because he had accidentally reversed two numbers on a form. A simple mistake that had gone unnoticed was the reason Reaser had remained a free man and Lasky had become a killer.

Sara stormed toward Dr. Snyder in a controlled rage. Eleven people. Eleven people had been killed today by Lasky because this woman had helped a rapist walk by exploiting a clerical error and not reporting the death threats from the gunman. And now she was standing in the lobby talking on her phone about speaking to the press.

"Of course I'll talk to the press. We need to give WNE the exclusive, though. Now? I can take care of that."

Sara was speaking before she'd reached Dr. Snyder. "He was after you."

Dr. Snyder realized she wasn't going to be avoiding this encounter by being on the phone. "I'll call you back."

Sara waited for the phone to leave Dr. Snyder's ear and then continued. "The gunman, Jeff Lasky. Ring a bell?" Dr. Snyder looked confused. "What about Like Reaser?" Dr. Snyder face showed that she recognized the name. "You helped put that son of a bitch back on the street, and then he went on to murder Lasky's family."

Dr. Snyder's face became contemptuous. She wasn't about to take the blame, no matter how rightly it was deserved. "If I remember correctly, the prosecution didn't have that much evidence against Reaser. And what they did have was mishandled."

Sara couldn't believe the stance of innocence this woman was taking. "No. No, no, no. I talked to the lab in Dallas. A DNA analyst transposed two numbers on a piece of paper. It was a simple mistake, Jane."

Dr. Snyder maintained her composure. "And someone in the lab should have caught it."

"A guilty man went free because of a typo."

Dr. Snyder's façade was starting to crack. "It was sloppy work." She switched back to the tactic of throwing blame away from her by focusing on the lab that had handled the Reaser case. "Who knows what other mistakes that lab made?"

Sara was momentarily speechless at her behavior. "You used to care about the truth."

Dr. Snyder got defensive. "Come on, Sara. We're not on the same side anymore. It's my job to poke holes in the science."

Sara decided to get under Dr. Snyder's skin by mocking her performance from before the shooting. "And put on a show for the jury, right?" Dr. Snyder scoffed. "Luke Reaser raped and killed Lasky's wife and five-year-old daughter. Slit their throats and then dumped their bodies in the trash. That's why Lasky went on this rampage." Sara couldn't contain her anger any longer. "Eleven people are dead because of you!"

Despite her disgust at what Reaser had done to Lasky's family, Dr. Snyder wasn't done trying to skirt the blame. "I didn't put the gun in Lasky's hand."

Sara wasn't going to let her deflect any more. "No, you kind of did. Lasky sent you emails. He sent you threats over a month ago. You didn't report it."

"I get threats all the time. New flash, Sara. I'm a woman of strong opinions. Some people," she gestured to Sara to make her point, "just don't like me."

Sara shook her head. "Uh-uh. None of this would have happened if you had just gone to the police, Jane. Why don't you put that in your press conference?"

Dr. Snyder looked both shaken and dismissive. It didn't matter what Sara said, she had learned long ago how to let the guilt of helping criminals escape justice slide off her conscience. The only thing that made this encounter sting was that Sara was right. If she had reported Lasky's threats, this shooting might not have happened today. She turned her back to Sara and walked away, determined not to let Sara's words sink any deeper than they already had.

Sara watched her leave with a look of revulsion barely concealed on her face. This woman would never take responsibility for what her negligence had done. And in the end, there was no crime she could be charged with. Sara's chiming phone forced her to move on.

She had received a text. "Body of 18th floor. Location cleared. You have the handle." Sara went back to the home screen on her phone and headed back to work.

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><p><strong>AN: So far the chapters haven't strayed too far from the episode. I've added what I think the characters are thinking/feeling based on what I saw in the episode, but that has been the only additions up to this point. That will start to change in the next chapter. Leave a comment below! Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, phnxgrl, and RosePetal7 for their reviews. RosePetal7: thanks for the clarification. I'm not aiming it that direction, but who knows. I like to keep my options open. This chapter is where I diverge from what happened in the episode, hence the story summary. We're starting with Sara. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

Sara arrived on the 18th floor with the supplies she had left from the vendors and looked for the body. It seemed a little strange that no one had been posted on the floor to stay with the body, but if SWAT was still sweeping the hotel for any surprises Lasky might have left behind, they wouldn't necessarily have the manpower they would need if they left someone behind. She turned a corner and spotted the body of an African American woman in the middle of the hall.

As she got closer, she recognized the woman as Linda Gage. Sara remembered working with her a few years ago when they served on the review team to investigate a fellow CSI's work. She couldn't figure out what Gage's connection to Lasky was, but finding that connection wasn't important at the moment. Right now it was her job to process the crime scene.

Sara set her makeshift kit down and pulled out her phone to take a few crime scene overview shots. Next she knelt next to the victim to capture the close-ups of Gage's wounds. Blood had leaked from several wounds on her chest and had pooled under her neck and along her sides. Her eyes were open and unseeing in death, mouth slightly open in surprise or fear. Sara made sure to take a couple photos of each wound before reaching into her kit for gloves and a cotton swap to collect blood and trace evidence.

She had just collected a couple swaps for DNA and trace when her phone rang. Caller I.D. said it was Russell. Sara stripped off her gloves and answered. "Hello?"

Russell sounded worried. "_Where are you?_"

"I'm on the 18th floor."

"_What? Why are you up there?_"

"I got a text…"

"_Look, there's a second shooter. Name is Cliff Ballard._"

That was not a name Sara expected to hear today. "Cliff Ballard? He's in prison."

Behind her, Ballard's nasally voice interrupted whatever Russell was saying. "I got out in August."

Sara turned around to see a silenced gun pointed right at her. Ballard looked anxious as he was holding the gun. He was dressed in a cheap suit and tie like most other criminalist attending the conference, which might explain how no one had noticed him before now.

Ballard gestured with his free hand. "Give me the phone."

Sara kept her voice calm, hoping she could defuse the situation. "All right." She handed the phone to him.

Ballard snatched it from her hand that tossed it behind him. "Now the gun."

Sara nodded and unclipped her holstered gun from her hip, silently handing it to him. Again, he snatched it from her and tossed it behind him, too far out of reach to be of much use. Now that she had been disarmed, Ballard's eyes were hard as he kept his gun trained on her.

Sara wanted answers. "The text telling me to come up here…it was from you, wasn't it?" She was scared, but kept her voice fairly even, just as they'd been trained to do in hostile situations.

Ballard looked pleased she had figured it out and smug that his plan had worked. "I wanted to get you alone."

"This woman, Linda Gage?" Sara looked down at the victim and back up to Ballard. "She was part of the review team. You killed her, didn't you?"

Ballard looked down at her too. "She helped send me to prison." The gun had lowered briefly, but when he looked back at Sara, he raised it into her face again. "Just like you."

Sara tried desperately to convey to him that she hadn't done so maliciously. "It was not personal. We were just asked to take a look at your work."

Ballard was upset. "I was a good criminalist."

Sara hurried to agree with him. "I know you were, Cliff. You did a lot of good work over the years."

"I put rapist and murderers behind bars." He was justifying his criminal actions. "They were all guilty. They deserved what they got."

"I'm sure they did, but…" she needed him to see reason, "you tampered with the evidence to get the results you wanted."

He was looking at her like she just didn't understand. "I didn't have a choice. The detectives come to you. They want a slam dunk." Sara noticed the gun he was holding was lowering. "Evidence isn't always like that."

Sara agreed again. "It's a lot of pressure. I've been there many times. Convictions hinge on conclusive evidence, and if you don't have enough, you feel like a failure."

Ballard nodded. "I had to do something."

Sara was relieved he staying with her. "I understand. It's natural to want to help the case along, to…" It was the wrong thing to say. His face contorted with rage and he lunged at her, grabbing her shoulder and aiming the gun at her head at point blank range.

"You don't understand! If you did, you wouldn't have helped send me away!"

Sara tried to get through to him again. "Cliff, wait."

There was no stopping him now. "You treated me like a criminal." He moved the gun to point at her stomach, rage dictating his actions. The gun's hammer was cocked and Sara's eyes widened in fear. "Destroyed my life!"

Sara was terrified. She couldn't look away from his face. Despite being trained to defend herself, today she couldn't move. Frozen in fear, time stretched. Seconds felt like minutes and then the gun fired. She felt the bullet enter her body, felt the ignited gunpowder burn her skin. She felt the blood begin to leak from her body as the bullet tore through her abdomen.

And then she felt the pain. It was like a fire raging through her along the path the bullet had taken and she listed to her right, hitting the wall and then sliding down it. Her hands were clutching her middle to try and stem the flow of blood, but it wasn't enough. Her life was flowing through the gaps in her fingers, trickling onto her pants and the floor.

Ballard was standing over her. "It's what you deserve." He raised the gun again and started to cock the hammer again.

Down the hallway, a gunshot rang out and Ballard collapsed, his gun clattering to the floor as he fell. Sara noticed the edges of her vision were starting to go black as shock set in. Sound was muffled. The SWAT team swarmed around her, one checking that Ballard was dead, another calling for a medic.

"Shots fired, shots fired. Suspect is down. One injured. We need a medic. Repeat, we need a medic on eighteen." Sara passed out as she was moved to make it easier to apply pressure.

"_What are the injuries?_"

"Gunshot to the abdomen, heavy bleeding."

"_Copy that. Paramedics are in the elevator heading to your position. Stand by._"

"Stay with us."

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><p>Finn was so glad to be outside. Mark's ambulance had left a few minutes ago and she was checking in with the CSI's who'd been sent to completely process all the crime scenes now that the hotel had been cleared completely. Nick had gone in already to get started with the other conference rooms. Finn had decided she should stay and help instead of go with Mark, because if she went with Mark all she'd be doing was sitting in a hospital waiting room. At least here she could be helpful.<p>

Russell pulled up and got out looking frantic. Finn walked over to him. "I'm fine. They got us out not long after you texted."

"Yeah, I know. It's Sara. I was talking to her when she was shot by the second gunman."

Finn took a step back in surprise, her mind only processing parts of that sentence at a time. "Wait, there was a second shooter? When I spoke to Sara, she said she only saw one."

"She did. The other one was shooting people upstairs."

Finn's brain finally registered that Sara had been shot. "Is she going to be okay?"

Russell shook his head. "I don't know, SWAT said she was bleeding pretty bad. I don't know more than that. There she is."

They turned around to see the paramedics wheeling Sara outside. An oxygen mask was covering her mouth and nose, her shirt had been cut open, and a gauze pad covered her stomach. Just like her shirt and pants, the pad was stained red and the paramedics were hurrying to get her to the ambulance. As they got closer, Russell and Finn could see she was unconscious and her skin was so pale it was almost grey.

Russell had to look away. "Oh, God."

Nick had come out the doors soon after the gurney and stopped by Finn and Russell to watch Sara get loaded into the ambulance and drive away. "I thought Ballard had been shot by SWAT. What happened?"

"He was, but not until after Sara had been shot." Russell took a breath to regroup. "Okay, okay. I've got Morgan at the hospital to get the bullets from Mark and Sara. What I need right now is for you two to do your best in there. I know we already got the shooters, but the D.A. wants to know exactly what happened in there so we can wrap this up in a nice bow. Can you do that?"

Nick nodded. "You got it."

Finn's eyes were locked on the ambulance as it raced down the street. Russell moved his head closer to her line of sight to get her attention. "Finn? Are you okay to work?"

"I should have called in when we got out of the elevator. I should have been with her."

"It's too late for thoughts like that." Finn hadn't looked away yet. "Jules, there's nothing you can do about that now. I need your head in the game. Do you understand?"

Finn looked down at the ground to center herself and nodded. "I'm here. Where do you want me to start?"

"Take Nick, start on eighteen and work down." Russell grabbed Finn's kit from the car and handed it to her. "I'm counting on you guys."

Nick looked determined. "We won't let you down."

Finn turned back to the Mediterranean and followed Nick back inside. She couldn't believe this happened. Two people shot up a forensic conference. Finn didn't know how many died today or why the shooters did what they did in the first place. She'd been stuck in an elevator trying to keep Mark alive.

On the elevator, Nick gave Finn the rundown on what had transpired. The shooters were not working together. They both hated law enforcement and had their own reasons and hit lists. Sara had been on Ballard's because the review team she'd been on had helped put him in jail for tampering with evidence.

The doors opened on eighteen and they stepped off. "Super Dave, what do we have here?"

David's demeanor was subdued. "Single gunshot wound to the back, no exit wound. He also has GSR on his right hand."

Nick pointed at the two other blood pools on the floor. "What are these here?"

"The one closest to the wall was from Sara. The other one was from Linda Gage. Sara photographed her already. I did my exam and had her transported to the van. I hope you don't mind."

"No, that's cool." Nick noticed that Finn was just staring at the streak of blood on the wall. "Hey, you okay?"

Finn looked up at him. "What?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She set her kit down. "We should get to work, huh?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Is Sara going to make it? Leave a message below and we'll see.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, Noodle the Albino Python, and mt6shock for their reviews. phnxgrl and mt6shock: I'm not sure when Grissom will appear in this story. I don't have a definite plan for the story arc. In truth, it will probably follow the episodes for this season loosely, though I probably won't write for every episode. We are starting this chapter with Morgan's POV. Most of it is me adding to/changing the episode to fit the story, though I did include the scene with Finn and Mark. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

Morgan had arrived at the hospital in time to see Mark get wheeled into surgery. One of the nurses who recognized her as a CSI promised to collect his clothes and the bullet for her as soon as she could. Now Morgan was just waiting for Sara to come in. She sat down in a chair and looked at her hands. Vicki's blood was still caked around her fingernails. She reached into her bag and grabbed a wet nap to try and scrub it off.

The bay doors opened and chaos poured in. "43 year-old female. GSW to the abdomen."

Trauma doctors converged on the gurney. "What happened?"

Morgan found herself following. "Is she going to be okay?"

The doctors ignored her. "She went into cardiac arrest and stopped breathing en route. Administered CPR, an amp of epi, and used the defib. Had to intubate to assist with breathing. We gave her a bag of O- and fluids on the way over, but she needs more."

"Let's get her into surgery."

Morgan stopped when she saw Sara. Her torso was covered with blood. Whatever hope she'd had that Sara's injuries were minor disappeared in an instant. The doctors with Sara disappeared behind the doors leading into the O.R. and Morgan sank to the floor. Today had been hell and she was struggling to keep herself afloat.

She was still squatting against the wall when Hodges found her. "Morgan."

"Hodges." Morgan got to her feet and threw her arms around him, tears trickling onto his shoulder. "I'm scared. Sara…she looked so bad. I don't think she's going to make it."

Hodges returned the embrace. "She's going to make it. She's a fighter."

Morgan nodded and eventually Hodges managed to direct them into chairs nearby. Morgan cried into his shoulder until she regained control of her emotions enough to sit up properly. For a while they sat in silence. At some point, Morgan had gone back to scrubbing the area around her nails with the wet nap. Hodges watched for a moment and then took one of her hands in his.

"Hydrogen peroxide removed blood better. The nurses usually have some handy somewhere."

Morgan was silent for another moment, just looking at her hands. "We always wear gloves when we go to the crime scene. You know? We're never there…there when it…when it actually happens."

Hodges nodded. "I know. It's never easy watching someone die, especially when it's someone you know. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

After a moment of silence, Morgan turned to him as she realized he was here and not at the lab. "Shouldn't you be at the lab processing evidence?"

"Nothing from the hotel had come in yet, and I figured you might need my company a little more than the GC/MS does. I asked Henry to text me when evidence started to arrive." His phone buzzed with a text. "And speak of the devil. Duty calls."

Morgan looked a little sad. "You should go then."

"I can stay if you prefer. The shooters have already been stopped; it's not like trace is going to lead PD to where they are."

Morgan was about to respond when the nurse she'd spoken to earlier called her name. "I have the clothes from Mark Perlow and Sara Sidle." She held out two large evidence bags to her.

Morgan stood as she took them. "Thank you. How are they doing?"

"Both are still in surgery. I'm afraid that's all I know for now."

"And the bullets?"

The nurse shook her head. "They haven't been extracted yet. Sorry."

Morgan sat again. "Now I wait. Can you take these back to the lab for me?"

Hodges nodded. "Sure. You'll be okay here?"

Morgan nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for sitting with me."

"Any time." Hodges grabbed the bags. "If you need me to come back, just call. I'll come right back."

* * *

><p>Mark was reclining in a hospital bed just staring at the wall across from him. Finn had finished up the two crime scenes upstairs with Nick before she had to leave. Despite being the blood whisperer and analyzing numerous scenes covered in it, she just had to leave. Processing eighteen, and knowing some of the blood belonged to Sara, had taken a toll after having to care for Mark in the elevator. Finn had just gotten to a point where she couldn't take any more blood today.<p>

Finn put on a good face and went in to see Mark. His eyes snapped to her as soon as she neared the threshold. Due to the pain killers, it took him minute to recognize her. When he did, his face lit up like she was his favorite person in the world. That look helped fuel the smile on her face.

"Hey."

It was good to hear his voice sounding stronger. "Hey. Nurse said you were out of surgery and you needed a visitor."

"Yep. I got to the Pearly Gates. They sent me back."

Finn's smile widened. "I'm glad they did."

His features changed to a look which conveyed the seriousness of his next statement. "You saved my life."

Finn flipped her hair. "Well, buy me dinner. We'll call it even." She moved to take a seat.

He contemplated that for a moment and nodded. "Deal."

"So the doctor said that you're gonna need some time to recover. And that you cannot fly back to Boston for at least two weeks, so…I was hoping that maybe we could…" she was about to say date but that sounded presumptuous , "hang out. You know, when you get back up on your feet."

He looked a little confused. "You mean date?"

Okay, so he heard what she'd been hesitant to say. "Yeah. Like, uh, dinner and a movie and a goodnight kiss." She surprised how excited she felt about that possibility.

"Well, as you know, dating sometimes can turn into a…" he sighed in amusement, "a real relationship."

Finn nodded, butterflies in her stomach. "I'm willing to risk it."

He nodded. "Me, too." Finn smiled, but her face fell a little when Sara's name drifted across her mind. He noticed. "What, what's wrong?"

She looked at him. "It's Sara. She was shot point blank upstairs a little after we got out of the elevator."

Mark was concerned. "Is she okay?"

Finn shrugged. "I don't know. She lost a lot of blood. I saw her when she was brought to the ambulance. You were in much better shape."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Keep me distracted?"

Mark smiled. "I can do that."

* * *

><p>Morgan was pacing the waiting room for the fourth time when the nurse returned holding two vials with bullets and fragments in them. "Here are the bullets you wanted. They're labeled. Hope this helps."<p>

"Thank you." Morgan looked at the vial marked "Sara Sidle." The bullet was mostly in tacked, though a couple small slivers were also in the vial. At some point the bullet had fragmented a little. Who knew how much damage those small fragments might have done? "How is she doing?"

"She's still in there. Mark Perlow is out of surgery and awake, so things are looking good there. Sara should be out of surgery soon."

Morgan nodded. It wasn't much information, but it was a start. "Thank you. I should get these back to the lab. Will you call me when she gets out?"

The nurse nodded. "Of course."

"Thanks."

* * *

><p>Voices. They were talking nearby but the sound was distorted, almost like the noise was coming from around a corner. And everyone seemed to be talking at once. Nothing being said was discernable and what words were clear made no sense. Sara tried to open her eyes, but the lids were too heavy. She tried again and light came in, but then her eyes closed again and she drifted to sleep.<p>

After some time had passed, she started to float back to consciousness again. Her eyelids cooperated a little better this time around, but she still had to blink several times before she actually started to register the images she was seeing. The ceiling was white with florescent strip lighting. Across from her was a wall with a window and door in it, but the other side of the window wasn't the outdoors, it was a hallway. To her left, machines beeped in time with her heartbeat. _I'm in a hospital_.

A soft knock on the doorframe attracted Sara's attention. "Are you feeling up to visitors?"

Sara smiled, "Finn."

Finn came in and took the open seat. "You had us worried there."

Sara smirked. "Well, you know, I got to keep you on your toes sometimes, right? How's Mark?"

"He's going to make it. He'll be stuck in Vegas for a few weeks, but that's about all he really has to worry about."

"I'm sure you're just devastated about that."

Finn chuckled. "Yeah, it's going to be a tough few weeks."

Sara started to drift off to sleep again. "That's good."

"Sara?" There was no response as the pain meds claimed Sara's consciousness. "I'm going to be right here until you wake up again, okay? You go ahead and sleep. I'll still be here."

A couple hours later Sara woke up again. In the meantime, the doctor had come in, checking in on Sara not long after she had fallen asleep as well as talking to Finn for a few minutes. Finn had then sat watching Sara sleep. Some of their colleagues dropped in to see that she was okay and drop off flowers, but none stayed for long when they saw she was asleep.

Morgan was the one who stayed. There had to be something in the fact that all three of them experiencing the horror of the day that made them want to be together. Their plans to go to dinner and then enjoy a VIP table were obviously canceled but that didn't mean they weren't going to support each other in their time of need.

Sara's eyes fluttered before opening completely. "Finn?"

"I'm right here."

"You didn't leave."

Finn smiled. "Of course not. I said I would stay. Morgan's here now too."

The pain killer stupor was beginning to wear off. "Morgan?"

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

"As long as these painkillers keep working I'm fine." Sara turned to Finn. "Has the… um… doctor come in yet?"

Finn nodded, though there was something tense in her gaze. "Yeah, he came in a couple hours ago. You'd just fallen asleep again; he didn't want to wake you."

"What did he say?"

Finn hesitated. "I'll leave it to him to tell you. If I tried to explain, I'm sure I'd mess something up." Morgan hadn't been there when the doctor came in and was looking at Finn strangely. Finn shook her head slightly to tell Morgan not to ask. She didn't want Sara demanding answers.

Sara's face looked strange but she wasn't looking at them anymore. At first her expression was confused, and then it took on a slightly panicked appearance. Little by little, her breathing increased in rhythm till she was almost hyperventilating.

Morgan stood and moved to Sara's bedside. "Sara, what's wrong? Are you in pain? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

"I…I can't…"

"Can't what?"

Sara's head tilted back into the pillow, anguish all over the face as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Finn closed her own and sighed. She had hoped that the painkillers would prevent Sara from noticing until the doctor came in to explain everything, but that wasn't the case. Sara had her eyes squeezed shut and tears were running down her face.

Morgan was panicking in her helplessness. "Sara, tell me what's wrong so I can help."

Sara shook her head, and then pulled in a shaky breath, her lower lip trembling. "I can't feel my legs."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For those of you who have read my Castle story, you may have known that my stories tend to take a darker tone for character's stories. This is not going to be an angsty fic, and yes, things will (hopefully) get better. Leave a comment below about where you think this story is headed. Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, jj, Taylor Carter, phnxgrl, RosePetal7, and mt6shock for their reviews. jj: you're the second person who has requested this becomes a snickers story. I won't guarantee this will or won't be one; for now I'm just letting the story tell me where it wants to go. RosePetal7: all will be explained in this chapter. This chapter starts a couple hours after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 5<span>

Sara looked around at the flowers in her room in disgust. Her friends and colleagues had left them for her with messages like "Get well soon!" on them, but that was never going to be. Her doctor had come in and explained how bad her injury was. A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she thought about what he'd said. Apparently the bullet had severed her spinal cord between T12 and L1. She would never walk again.

Sara had kicked out Finn and Morgan soon after she realized she couldn't feel or move her legs. Finn had admitted that she knew about the paralysis, but that wasn't the reason Sara kicked them out. She was just a very private person. The trauma and pain of her past meant she tended to deal with her emotions in private. The idea of letting them see her fall apart was too difficult and embarrassing to allow. After they left, she had cried for several minutes. She couldn't even begin to contemplate how she was going to live with this.

Russell came in with a simple bouquet in a small vase. "May I come in?"

Sara looked away. "I kind of want to be alone right now."

In typical Russell fashion, he ignored that. "My wife cut these from her flower garden. It's hard to keep these plants alive in this desert, but she enjoys it. Well, that and her painting. Both help her feel like she still has a little piece of Seattle at home."

Sara looked at the flowers. "They're beautiful."

"Yeah. She always did have a talent for that sort of thing." He set the flowers on the counter with the others. "You have a lot of people who care for you, Sara."

She nodded. "I know."

He took a seat. "How are you doing with all this?"

Sara scoffed. "Word travels I see."

"I spoke to Finn, yes. She feels awful about not coming clean with you when you asked what the doctor said. You should know that Morgan didn't know about it."

Sara sighed. "I didn't kick them out for that. And I know Morgan had no idea. I'm not blaming them for that. I get why Finn didn't say anything. How do you tell your friend they will never walk again?"

"So you're not mad at them."

Sara shook her head. "No. I just have a tendency to hide what I'm going through from people. In this case, I couldn't leave them, so I had them leave me."

Russell nodded. "Well, that might be okay initially, but in the long run it'll be easier for you and everyone else around you if you reach out to them. We're all here for you, Sara."

Sara nodded. "I know. This is just all so new to me."

Russell nodded. "It's new to everyone."

Sara looked sad. "I'm not going to be a CSI anymore, am I?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I can't walk, I can't bend over or squat to pick up evidence, I won't be able to see over most counters anymore…"

Russell held up a hand. "I'm going to stop you right there. You are not finished unless you want to be finished. Walking or not, you are still a great CSI. And besides, people in wheelchairs are capable of doing so many things. Think about the Paralympic athletes. You are not done. We just need to make a few adjustments is all."

"What, the lab's going to get a complete remodel?"

"Probably not. Besides, I'm fairly certain that doorways and all of that are already up to code for wheelchair access. I'm just saying we're going to figure everything out. Together."

"What about Ecklie?"

Russell waved a hand. "I've already talked to him. He's not going to fire you. He likes your work and besides, politically it would be a suicide move to fire someone who was injured in the line of duty."

"So I still have a job?"

Russell smiled. "If you want it, yes, you still have a job. You may have to give up your firearm if you can't qualify, but you still have a job."

"I'd like that."

"Good. Is there anyone you'd like me to call?"

Sara shook her head. "No. The doctors already called my mother and everyone else works in the lab, so no."

"What about Grissom?"

Sara's reaction was discomfort. "Ah, no. We're divorced, he was exploring and studying abroad last I heard, so no. I have no reason to tell him about this."

Russell could tell their divorce was still something painful to Sara, so he didn't push. "Okay. If you change your mind, just let me know."

"Thanks for the offer, but I won't." She moved to adjust her shoulders. A sharp pain shot through the lower part of her body. She sucked in a breath and moaned.

Russell hit the nurse call button. A couple minutes later a kind faced woman walked in. "She needs help adjusting her position. It's really painful for her right now."

"No problem." The woman adjusted the pain meds and then carefully helped move the pillows behind Sara into more comfortable positions. "Is that better?"

Sara nodded, her face pale from the effort it took to move. "Yes, thank you."

"If you need anything else, just hit the call button."

Russell nodded. "Thank you."

Sara sighed as the woman left. "Is this my life now?"

Russell shook his head. "No, no. That's just the bullet wound talking. Once that heals, you'll be in much better shape."

Sara nodded, her eyelids getting heavy from the added pain meds. "I hope so."

Russell smiled as her eyes closed. "Get better, Sara. We're all here for you." Sara smiled as Russell stood and held her hand briefly before he went home.

* * *

><p><strong>Almost three months later…<strong>

Rehab sucked. Sara had been in the hospital for close to three weeks for close observation and tests. It was eventually determined that she had been lucky in terms of how much of her body was affected by the paralysis, a sentiment that Sara didn't fully share. As the inflammation and swelling went down, she did regain feeling to the area just above her hip joint, but no more than that. In the end, she had full control and feeling in 99% of her torso, but her legs were gone.

Which was why she was in rehab now. She needed to learn how to live on her own with her disability. The assisted living facility where Sara was being treated provided rehabilitation, instruction on adapting to living independently, and counseling for those who had recently suffered a spine injury. It was nice to be receiving such good care while she recovered from the gunshot wound and started her transition to life in a wheelchair. And she wasn't alone. Her roommate had a similar injury, though hers was a result of a car accident. She was also farther along in her recovery and had learned a few tricks that made things easier.

Cally wheeled into their room to see Sara on the floor trying to get her chair's wheels to lock. "What happened?"

Sara leaned back against her bed. "My back seized up." She tried to move the chair into a better position.

"Were the brakes locked when you tried to get in?" The chair was not staying still.

"Yes. I had to undo them so I could lie down until my back stopped spazing out. Now I can't get them to lock again."

Cally moved the chair into a better position and reengaged the brakes. "Are you well enough to try again?"

Sara sighed. "Yeah." It took a minutes of struggling, but Sara managed to pull herself into the chair. "Got a shortcut for that?"

Cally smiled. "That's something that takes strength. Right now you have to train your body to use muscles in a different way. You'll get there."

Sara nodded; she was breathing hard from the effort to pull herself into the chair. "Probably doesn't help to have a mending hole in my stomach."

"No, probably not." Cally headed for the door. "You coming? It's time for therapy ."

Sara slowly moved out the door and awkwardly rolled down the hall to the elevator. The chair just felt big and clumsy to Sara. It was the type used in hospitals; generic, oversized, boxy, and mass produced. One of the therapists here was a chair user and his seemed to be formed to his body. If Sara was going to return to the lab, she was going to need to get one of those custom chairs.

Down on the ground floor, Sara followed Cally to the gym. Inside were weight machines of many kinds, rows of parallel bars to practice walking, and a few other tools to gain strength or dexterity. Up until recently, Sara had wanted to head straight for the machines she'd used before her injury only to remember she no longer could. In the past week, she had settled on a few she could use now.

She was about to head for the first machine when her therapist found her. "Sara, good morning. Are you ready?"

"Sure. Same routine?"

"Let's shake it up today. Come over to the parallel bars."

Sara froze. "I can't walk. My injury makes that impossible."

"You can use the bars for more than walking." The therapist headed for the bars with a reluctant Sara in tow. "Strength training is an important part of your recovery. You're going to be relying on your upper body strength to get around which means you'll need to be able to support your body weight with your arms sometimes. I've got a few exercises for you that only require a set of parallel bars."

They went over different exercises for an hour and a half. Some were easy, some were a struggle to do more than five repetitions. Cally was right; Sara was having to train her muscles to work in a different way. The last exercise had her supporting her weight on her hands, "walking" down the row while dragging her feet behind her. Sara got halfway down the line before her arms gave out. She collapsed between the bars and landed on her wrist awkwardly. Her arm was fine, but her breath had been knocked out of her.

"Are you okay?"

Sara shook her head, struggling to breathe. Her therapist helped her back into her chair and did a quick check for any major injury. She didn't find one, but didn't want to risk it. The therapist sent Sara to the infirmary to get checked up. The checkup gave her the all clear; all she was really going to have was a bruise. With the all clear signed off, Sara left the doctor and headed straight to lunch.

Cally was waiting for her. "I saw you fall. Are you okay?"

Sara grabbed a tray and nodded. "Yeah, my arms just got a little tired. Got the wind knocked out of me."

"I'm glad you're okay. By the way, someone is here to see you."

"Who?"

Cally pointed to the corner. "He's over there."

Sara's eyes scanned the corner and settled on the young face of her goofy blonde-haired friend. She smiled and headed toward him. "Greg. What are you doing here?"

He smiled as he walked up to her. "I wanted to see you. You look good."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No, I mean it. You look great."

Sara smirked and headed back toward the lunch line. "Thanks. How's the lab without me?"

"It just isn't the same." He followed her as she maneuvered through the line. "Finn is trying to fill your shoes, but she's not you. You should like what we've done with the place. We made it a little more wheelchair friendly."

"Good to know." Sara lead the way as they headed to a table. Greg had to grab one of the spare chairs from the side of the room so he would have somewhere to sit. "I'm ready to get back out there. Now if only my body was ready too."

"You'll be back out with us soon enough. You just need to focus on getting better."

"Yeah, I know. It's a slow process. I keep thinking I'm getting better and then something happens and I'm reminded of how far away I am."

Greg smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, I wouldn't worry about that. You'll be back on your feet in…" He froze, realization of what he'd just said twisting his features into a grimace. "Sara, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize what I was saying…"

Sara was looking down at her tray trying to hide how much that simple slip of his tongue had hurt. "It's okay. I know what you were trying to say."

"Sara…"

"I gotta go. Group is in a few minutes."

With that, she backed away from the table and headed back to the dorms. Greg stood up to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. He was mentally kicking himself for being so stupid. Now she probably hated him. Soon it was too late to call her back to apologize again and he was forced to just watch as Sara rolled out of the cafeteria, leaving her lunch untouched on the table.

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry about the time jump in the middle of the chapter, but I didn't think much hospital time really had to be shown. The next chapter will probably start a few months after this one ended, and it will probably be a few days before I post another chapter. I hope you stay with me and continue leaving all those wonderful comments. Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I'm back. Sorry about the break between postings. The holidays interrupted my time available to write. First off, I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, phnxgrl, Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, was spratlurid quimby, ****and ****RosePetal7 for their reviews. Olivia Joanne Rodrigues: you're the first Sandle request which I'm going to guess is a Greg Sanders and Sara Sidle shipping. Most likely a no on that pairing, sorry. was spratlurid quimby: the angsty parts should be over soon, though there may be a little in future chapters as Sara continues to adjust. **RosePetal7**: Sara is a strong woman. Sorry that you were wrong, and yes, I think after this chapter she will be able to adjust to her new circumstance well.**

**This chapter is not starting a few months after the last one. We are actually going to start with the group therapy session Sara mentioned. This chapter also includes a time jump. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

Sara was quiet during group. The conversation with Greg was still playing through her head. Up until his slip of the tongue, he'd been nothing but supportive and encouraging. Even the slip had been intended as encouraging words. She looked down at her motionless, sensationless legs and sighed. Yes the slip had hurt, but she knew exactly what he meant and had reacted badly. _I'll call him and apologize tonight_.

The group leader had noticed her preoccupation and asked her to stay behind after the meeting was over. "What's on your mind?"

"Uh, a friend came to visit today. I didn't handle it very well."

"Tell me what happened."

Sara sighed. "He was being very supportive. That was fine. Then he started to say I would be back on my feet in no time. That's when I ran away."

"His words hurt because of the nature of your injury."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. And I reacted the way I normally react when I don't want to deal with something. I ran away."

The therapist was silent for a moment. "That's the second time you said 'I ran away.' Running is something that is typically thought of as involving legs and feet. The slip of the tongue you reacted to is…"

"The same one I keep making, I know." Sara hated being told things she already knew. "That's what I've been thinking about all during group. I'm already planning on calling him and apologizing for my behavior."

The therapist smiled. "And then you need to recognize that not everyone is going to be thinking about your condition the same way you always will."

Sara wiped away a tear that had started to fall. "How do I move on? How do I move past what happened?"

"You take it one step at a time. You learn what you can and can't do. You must be honest with your friends and family about your needs. When help is offered, you accept. Eventually you'll wake up one day and realize that you have moved on."

"I'm not very good at that."

The therapist nodded. "So I've gathered. Listen, Sara, what happened to you is a life changing experience. In here, you're fairly isolated from the real world because everyone here is either in the same boat as you or has spent their lives helping people with spinal injuries."

Sara looked down. "You're saying it's only going to get harder."

"Thomas Fuller credited with saying, 'the night is darkest before the dawn.' Accepting this as your life now is the first step. Everything else will come with time."

"Thanks."

The therapist smiled again as she stood. "There comes a time when we all have to stop running from our circumstances. You'll get there."

* * *

><p><strong>One month later…<strong>

The next month flew by. Sara was beginning to come to terms with what had happened and physical therapy from that moment on had been easy. Sara threw herself into the work, determined to be as independent as possible. Going from the floor to her chair had become easy, just like most everything else. Now she just needed a customized chair of her own.

Nick and Finn had volunteered to bring her home. Finn helped Sara pack her clothes and Nick traded Sara's facility provided chair with one the lab had acquired for a case at some point. They wheeled her to Nick's SUV, asking about what had happened since their latest visits and filling her in on some of the lab gossip. The SUV was too high for Sara to make the transition on her own, so Nick had to help her up.

Sara drank in the sights on the way home. She hadn't realized how much she had missed the Vegas life until she got to see it again. It looked like the casino that had been under construction had finally opened. For a while, Sara was just happy to see the sun out a car window again and breathe in the desert air. As they got closer to the lab, she began to worry a bit. She hadn't anticipated going to the lab so soon.

"Guys, aren't we going to wrong way to take me home?"

Nick turned his head a little. "Yeah, but everyone wanted to say hi."

"Nick, I'm not ready for that. I thought I was going home so I could figure out what I needed to change."

Finn turned around in her seat. "Sara, it's only for a few minutes. You go in, say hi, see what we've done at the lab to make things easier for you; that kind of thing. It'll be fine."

Sara looked out the window. "Fine."

They pulled into the parking structure and parked on the lowest level. Nick grabbed the chair from the back and help Sara out of the SUV to go inside. She was nervous. Like her therapist had said, things had become comfortable at the rehab center, but her time there had come to an end. Now she was being thrust into the real world and wasn't entirely sure she was ready for it.

Russell was waiting just inside the door. "I tried to talk them out of this."

"Out of what?"

The group rounded the corner and a wall of noise hit them. Everyone in the lab was standing by the reception desk and applauding. Greg and Morgan were closest, smiles big and bright. Next to them were Hodges, Henry, and Doc Robbins. Sara's cheeks reddened and she looked down, embarrassed at the attention.

Russell nodded his head toward the crowd. "This." After a few more seconds, Russell held up his hands. "All right everyone. Back to your work, you've embarrassed her enough. Come on, come on, move along."

The applause trickled down and most of the crowd dispersed. Greg, Morgan, Hodges, Henry, and Doc Robbins stayed behind. One by one, they all came up and gave her a hug, welcoming her back to the lab. Sara found she was glad to see them there. In spite of the chair, she was glad to be home.

After they had given her hugs, everyone was sent back to work. Russell stayed behind to give her the tour. "Sorry about that, but it really is good to have you back. Okay, so the tour. We didn't really have to change much. The doorways are already wide enough for even the bulky chair you're in now."

"How do you know?"

"Hodges. Yeah, he dug that chair out of storage and went around the lab checking all the doors. If he fit through, he slapped a sticky note on the doorframe."

"Yeah, that sounds like Hodges."

"Yeah. He also helped us figure out where you'd need the most assistance. The layout room for instance," they went inside the layout room, "you might notice the table is a little high for you to see everything."

The top of the table was a few inches below Sara's chin now. "Yeah, I'd never noticed how tall the table was before."

"Well, you got your own reserved spot now. Why don't you go down the left side, see what you think."

Sara maneuvered down the left side to find a ramp to a landing on the backside of the table. From here she was high enough to see the entire table. "That's much better."

"Ready to see more?"

Sara rolled back down the ramp. "Sure."

They went to the garage next. "You might remember this had a step here?"

"Yeah, I do. I don't think I'll be spending much time in here though."

Russell turned around. "We do more in here that tear cars apart."

Sara nodded in agreement. "That's true."

"We got a couple folding tables that are a few inches shorter than normal sitting height so they'll be easier for you to work at them. I think they're adjustable too, so if we need to tweak them…"

"Thanks Russell."

He dismissed her thanks with a wave of his hand. "I didn't do much really. It was mostly Nick, Finn, and Hodges. They were figuring out what needed to change before I got a chance to have a family meeting about it."

Sara smiled. "I guess I should thank them then. I think getting back to work will be much easier now."

Russell snapped his fingers. "Oh right, I almost forgot. Your desk. They had a couple ideas that they wanted to run by you before they went and changed something. We should take a look before you head out."

"Great." Sara rolled up the ramp back into the lab and headed to the office she shared with her colleagues. Finn and Nick were standing next to a large box with a bow on top. "Guys, what's this?"

Finn smiled. "Well, one of the times I came to see you, you said something about looking into custom wheelchairs when you got home."

Nick stepped in. "Around that time, Catherine called. She'd heard about what happened and wanted to help. She sent this."

Nick and Finn lifted the box up to reveal a wheelchair. This one appeared to be a high end custom job. The frame was carbon fiber, the seat looked cushy, and the footrest frame was tapered to help keep her feet in one place. The handrims were collapsible to help her fit through tighter doorways. There was one set of handles that Sara didn't recognize.

Sara couldn't stop grinning. "This is amazing."

"Mobility in this chair should be much better than the rust bucket you're in now, right?"

"It should be." Sara had just noticed there were three sets of straps. "What are the straps for?"

"I got to play with this earlier so I could show you." Finn sat in the chair. "The straps are here because of a really cool feature." She strapped herself in. "When you lock the brakes, you can do this."

Finn moved the mystery handles forward and the seat of the chair shifted upward until she was in a standing position. Sara's jaw dropped. When she'd been told she would never walk again, Sara had assumed she would be sitting for the rest of her life. With this chair, she now could be upright as often as she needed to be.

Russell smiled at Sara's expression. "Of course this means the ramp in the layout room is somewhat pointless now."

Sara found her voice. "No, it gives me options. How do you get down?"

Finn moved the handles backward. "The seat is on hydraulic pistons, so it lowers you smoothly." Within a few seconds, Finn was sitting again.

Sara smiled. "I've gotta try that."

Finn undid the straps and got out of the advanced wheelchair. Sara switched from the "rust bucket" to her new chair and, with Finn's help, adjusted all the straps so they would hold Sara securely. She then rotated the handles forward and, with a little effort, rose to a standing position. She started laughing as a few tears escaped her eyes. She was standing. Not her own power perhaps, but she was standing.

She wiped her face. "I can't believe it."

Nick was grinning. "Not bad, right? Now you don't have to worry about changing too much of your life around. We did move your locker so it's close to the door."

"That was something I was going to suggest. Thank you." Sara moved the handles backward and she returned to sitting. "I was told you had an idea regarding my desk?"

"Oh, yeah." Nick went to his desk and grabbed a sketchbook. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to use a regular office chair anymore, but if you did I was thinking of building a frame over your desk so you could move the chair around or use it as a strength training station. You don't have to."

Sara looked at the design. "I don't know, Nick. I should probably get back to work officially before I decide on something like that."

He took back the sketchbook. "Fair enough. You want to go home now?"

Sara nodded. "Yes, please."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: While doing research on spinal injuries, I found this chair on Youtube that I thought would make Sara's life as a handicapped CSI much easier. It's called the Lifestand Helium Ultralight Standing Frame Manual Wheelchair. They are not cheap though (that's why Catherine bought it, she has that casino money from way back in the series :). It may be a couple days before I post again; I'm working on writing the chapters that correspond with the episode "Rubbery Homicide." Stay tuned and make sure you leave a review! Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, phnxgrl, Guest, joann, abby, RosePetal7, mt6shock, Chocolate strawberries 123 for their reviews. RosePetal7: I love Hodges too and you should check it out. I haven't been able to find it at any online store, but the video on youtube was enough. mt6shock and Chocolate strawberries 123: I love that you love this story. Thanks so much for reading and leaving comments! Everyone's comments make me want to keep writing, so keep it up!**

**This chapter starts about a month after Sara returns from medical leave and is an alteration on the episode "Rubbery Homicide" for obvious reasons. Most of the chapter is just like the episode with little tweaks to put Sara in a wheelchair and provide internal thought, emotions, and additional actions not shown in the episode (similar to what I did with "Girls Gone Wilder"). Most of the episodes I incorporate in this story will be using a similar format, just FYI. I will try to include chapters that are not episode related every once in a while. With that said, enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7<span>

Sara and Russell arrived at the crime scene to see David Phillips already examining the body. Russell grabbed Sara's chair from the backseat and brought it to her door. A week after returning to work, they had finally figured out how to get Sara in and out of the SUV's without everyone needing to be strong enough to lift her. Out was easy. While the driver was getting the chair, Sara, in a passenger seat that was as far back as it would go, would lower herself till she was sitting on the floorboard. From there she could make the transition to her chair without further assistance.

She rolled backward enough for Russell to close her door. Sara then buckled the knee and lap straps to keep her in the chair and Russell handed her a camera. For now, a camera and evidence markers were all she could conveniently use. She was still waiting for the custom attachment for her chair to arrive; it would hopefully make her kit less burdensome to carry and use.

Russell lifted the tape for them to duck under and then went to talk to David while Sara started taking photos of the crime scene. "What are we looking at, David?" He snapped a close up picture of the blood near the body.

"There's a lot of damage to the neck. I'm counting three sharp force injuries, and I saw more in the back."

Russell was using his flashlight to get a better look at the wall nearby. "Got arterial spray over here. So he was standing right there when he was stabbed."

Sara had her flashlight out too. "You know, if that's the case, you'd expect to see more blood on his torso. He must have been dressed, right? Clothing shielded him from the blood, and…the killer stripped him?"

Russell panned his flashlight over the ground. "Possibly. Got a lipstick case here." He knelt down and picked it up with a gloved hand. "It's got bloodstains on it. A woman was here?"

"Could be another victim."

Sara ran with David's theory. "Maybe an attempted rape that took a turn. Guy picks on the wrong woman, she pulls out a blade and stabs him."

Russell stood up. "Yeah, then why wouldn't she just run away? Stripping a victim usually suggests a sexual component."

Sara saw that Russell had a point. "Maybe our mystery woman was the predator."

David turned from Sara to Russell. "Could be a vigilante."

Russell looked down at the victim, wanting to end the speculation for now, a slight smile telling them he thought the theorizing was fine, but the evidence came first. "I think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves, actually."

Sara smiled and went back to examining the crime scene. "You may be right." She wheeled away from them, looking for blood, footprints, or anything that seemed out of place. _Well, that certainly qualified_. "Hey, guys?"

Russell barely looked up. "What is it?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. But it kind of looks like a face stamped in blood."

The guys came over and David looked just as quizzical as she felt. "Might be the dead guys face."

Russell looked back at the dead guy. "Yeah, but our victim barely has any blood on his face. I'm not so sure he could leave a mark like that."

Sara leaned a little closer to the unusual sight. "There could've been a struggle during the stabbing. Assailant gets blood on his or her face, gets taken down, face-planted onto the concrete, leaving the impression."

Russell shifted on his feet. "Could be our first impression of the killer."

Sara took pictures of the bloody face and sent the photos to Finn for her to examine. David had the body transported back to the morgue. Together, Sara and Russell combed the crime scene, using the ALS to look for blood and biologicals. Sara took pictures and Russell collected swabs of the blood from every location they found any. After an hour spent at the scene, Russell determined that they had done all they could for now.

They packed up their equipment in the back and Russell opened Sara's door. Unlike out, in required a bit more strength because gravity wasn't doing any of the work. She stood up with the chair's assistance and grasped the grab-handle with her right hand and put her left on her seat. Russell undid the belts holding her to the chair and Sara maneuvered her body into the car. D.B. collapsed her chair while she got situated and stored the wheelchair in the backseat. In no time at all, they were ready to return to the lab.

* * *

><p>Back at the lab, Finn was having no luck with the face print Sara had sent her. Morgan came in as the computer coughed up another negative result. "So, how is the Blood Whisperer doing with the blood portrait?"<p>

Finn's disappointment leaked into her voice. "Not so bloody well. Image filters are giving me no additional detail, and I tried facial recognition software with no luck."

"A face no forensic method could love."

"You know, the weird thing is, if you or I had our lovely faces smeared with blood and mashed into concrete, the resulting stamp would be bolder in some areas but not others."

Morgan could see where Finn was getting at. "Right. Because our faces aren't flat."

Finn nodded. "Yeah, but this face is."

"Well, we think it could be the face of our killer. So any chance it's a physical deformity of some sort?"

"Maybe." Finn was trying to think of what might cause such a deformity.

"Well, DNA says that all the blood at the scene belongs to the victim, and prints gave us an I.D." Morgan opened the folder in her hands so Finn could see. "His name is Nelson Kern. He's a local with a few priors for burglary. Officers are headed to check out his apartment now, and Nick just pinged his cell."

* * *

><p>Nick's search for the victim's cell phone earned him the phone, a bloody purse, and a life-sized rubber female costume covered in bloody. He brought the evidence back to the lab to process it, finding a number of trace and other items to run. He also discovered several punctures in the suit that, according to the pictures Doc had sent, were consistent with the wounds the victim had sustained. Nick fumed the suit to find prints. While he waited, he did a web search on these rubber suits and found an entire site dedicated to the men who wore them.<p>

Russell came in for an update. "Hey, Buddy."

"Hey, Homicide find anything in Nelson Kern's apartment?"

"No, nothing useful." Russell put on a pair of gloves. "Apparently the guy was a loner. No job, no family in the area. So how's it going with her?"

"We're doing pretty good. Doc's still working on the body, but he did send these over." Nick grabbed a shot off the board to demonstrate his discovery. "The stab wounds in the suit line up perfectly with the stab wounds in Kern's back."

Russell did a quick comparison. "So clearly he was wearing this when he was attacked." He paused to think. "Do we know why he was wearing it?"

Nick grabbed the tablet he'd done the web search on. "Yeah, I found similar suits online and a site dedicated to those who wear them. They call themselves Rubber Dolls. Men who wear these suits and masks transform into females. It's a form of full-body cross-dressing."

"Like living Barbies."

"Or, in this case, not so living." Nick moved to the other side of Russell. "I pulled a lot of trace from the suit's skin. Now, granted, a lot of it may be transfer from the dumpster, but so far we've got two perfumes, baby oil, carpet fibers, and residue from champagne, vodka, and mint liqueur."

Russell was shuffling through paper on the table, looking at the results Nick got. "Ooh, mint. Sounds like a wild party."

"With a brutal end." Nick moved to the next piece of evidence. "The blood smeared on the mask, that would explain how the face was stamped on the concrete. We may not know much about Nelson Kern, but maybe the suit's maker does. Superglue fuming didn't provide any viable prints, but there was one embedded in the silicone. Check it out."

Nick held it up so Russell could see. "Looks like someone touched the skin before it was set." He turned to Nick. "We know who?"

"Print came back to a local named Belinda Goff."

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile...<strong>

As soon as Doc Robbins had called, Finn headed down to the morgue for the autopsy report. Nelson Kern was on his side on the table, displaying the stab wounds on his back. Finn put on the white lab coat and gloves you were supposed to wear in the morgue and put her I.D. on pocket. Doc was standing near the table, reading through his notes one more time so he wouldn't need to refer to them while giving his report.

Finn pushed open the door. "Hey Doc. What do you have for me?"

"Slight bruising on the edges of the lacerations suggests the weapon wasn't particularly sharp."

"Maybe a dull knife."

"I'm not so sure it was a knife," Doc started pointing to the wounds, "based on the square edges of the wounds." He moved on to the neck. "Severed his carotid artery. C.O.D. was exsanguination."

Finn noticed something on the victim's shoulder. "Looks like a human bite mark."

"Yeah, one of several incidental injuries I noted, including abrasions on his wrists and bruising on his arms." Doc gestured to each as he mentioned the injuries.

"Could be he was bound."

"He was also under the influence. Tox screen showed alcohol and ecstasy in his system."

Finn nodded. "Did you hear about the rubber suit?"

Doc looked displeased. "Yeah. Dressed up and messed up. Bad combo."

* * *

><p>Russell went to speak to Belinda Goff, who told him where some Rubber Dolls would hang out together. Russell had asked Greg to go with him to the club. Within five minutes of arriving, Greg had been pegged as a cop and the club had been shut down to question all the Dolls and club guests in attendance. Apparently, the rubber suit's name was Charlene, she was the most popular, and she might have had a rival.<p>

One of the Dolls had been attacked near the crime scene earlier in the week because of the costume. They now had a suspect. The Doll had caught the license plate on his attacker's motorcycle. A search in the DMV database gave them a name; the suspect was Clay Miller. LVPD picked him up soon after and brought him in for questioning. Due to the suspect's tough guy attitude, Nick had been selected to interrogate him.

Nick walked into the interrogate room with a folder in his hands. "Mr. Miller, do you know why you're here today?"

"Nope."

"Let me refresh your memory. A few nights ago you attacked a man dressed in a rubber suit that looked like a woman."

Miller shook his head in disbelief. "What kind of perv goes out like that?"

Nick had taken a seat. "What do you mean by that?"

"Wearing that costume, hiding his face. Guy's obviously embarrassed of himself."

Nick was getting a clear picture of who Miller was. "So, you want to look him in the eye? Huh? Is that it? You want to see his face?"

As Nick suspected, the idea of looking the man behind the mask in the eye made Miller extremely uncomfortable. "Nah, man, we're cool. What'd be the point?"

"Yeah, what's the point?" Nick opened the folder in front of him and pulled out a picture. "Take a look at the face of one of his friends." He slid the picture in front of Miller. "Someone didn't like the outfit he had on, so they cut him out of it with a knife."

Miller glanced between the photo of Kern dead at the crime scene and Nick, fear in his eyes. "No, you don't think I did that." Nick just stared him down. "No, I didn't do that. When was this? When was he killed?"

"Last night."

Miller looked a little relieved. "I was clocked in all night, pulling grave. Boss will tell you. Just ring him up. Look, look, all right, yeah, I roughed up the other one. If I'm getting charges for that, all good, but I ain't a murderer."

As much as he hated to say it, be believed Miller was telling the truth. "No charges. The victim doesn't want to press any. Doesn't want to show his face in court. Somehow, he's the one who's ashamed."

Miller looked slightly relieved, but at the same time ashamed. Nick hoped that Miller would remember this experience and clean up his act, at least a little. He gathered up the folder and photo and left, telling one of the officers to escort Mr. Miller out. Nick would still check Miller's story but it looked like they needed a new suspect.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Drop a message in the box below! Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I'd like thank Olivia Joanne Rodrigues, phnxgrl, Chocolate strawberries 123, joann, mt6shock, RosePetal7 for their reviews. Olivia Joanne Rodrigues: Sara has been a little absent on the show recently, so it's been a little hard to incorporate her in the story as much I would like. I'll make sure to include some chapters that deal with her a bit more even if they aren't tie-ins with certain episodes. mt6shock: I like the Russell/Sara relationship too, very father/daughter at times. And to everyone else, thanks for reading!**

**This chapter starts with my two favorite lab rats. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8<span>

Henry ran the swabs he had collected from the outside of the rubber suit hoping to get touch DNA from the killer. The earrings in particular looked promising due to the sharp edges. As he thought, he did find some skin cells on the earrings, but the results on the computer screen were impossible. He stared at the name as the results printed.

He was still confused looking at the printout. "What the…"

Hodges walked in. "Henry. Your befuddlement is showing down the hallway."

Part of Henry felt he might be getting pranked. "This is all so weird."

Hodges nonchalance wasn't helping. "What do you have?"

"A DNA result, and a…ghost story."

Hodges was intrigued. "I'm listening."

"I was swabbing the Charlene suit, still hoping to find a sample of touch DNA from the assailant. I noticed the doll's earrings, figured their sharp edges could have caught a chunk of the killer. Sure enough, there were skin cells embedded in one of them. I ran DNA on the skin cells and got a hit in CODIS. A match to a woman…," he handed Hodges the results, "who died two years ago. Charlene Brock."

Hodges was now as befuddled as Henry. "Charlene? Like the suit?"

"They don't just share a name." Henry turned the laptop so Hodges could see it too. "They share a face."

Hodges recognized her. "I've seen that woman before. I mean, the real her."

"Charlene Brock had a short career as a model in the early '80s, including one poster that sold millions."

"Oh, that dress."

Henry was sure Hodges wasn't pranking him now. "Just like the one on Rubber Charlene."

Hodges straightened up, trying to piece together what this meant. "Let me get this straight. So, pinup goddess dies, is reborn in rubber, only to get murdered?"

Henry nodded. "With DNA from the real dead woman on the rubber body."

Hodges looked confused, disgusted, and disbelieving, all at the same time. "Insane."

Henry shook his head. "Charlene Brock's family still lives in town. Might be worth a call."

Hodges nodded. "I'll text Russell."

* * *

><p>While Russell went to speak to Charlene Brock's family, Morgan decided to check out the chat rooms and message boards for Rubber Dolling. What she found was crazy. Reality shows were one thing; people in real life were something else entirely. And there were a couple promising leads to follow here as well.<p>

Morgan looked away from the screens as Sara rolled in. "If you ever thought those reality show housewives were catty, they got nothing in these vulcanized vixens."

Sara locked her breaks and stood up to see the screens better. "Web forum for Vegas Rubber Dolls."

"Nick's hate crime suspect alibi'd out, so now I'm focusing on doll-on-doll drama. The gossip, the grudges. And this forum is where they like to sling a lot of dirt."

"Find anything helpful?"

"Maybe." Morgan scrolled down to a few posts that had caught her eye. "Charlene, it turns out, has a rival doll. The mysterious and alluring Lexy."

"Hmm. It's not one of the dolls that Russell and Greg met at the club."

"Story I've been able to put together from the forum is that Lexy was the queen of the club until Charlene showed up last month, becoming the new hot thing. And Lexy wasn't happy about it."

Sara had a new theory. "Social snub could become motive. Do we, uh, know Lexy's real identity?"

"Nobody breaks character on these sites. I messaged Lexy, but no response. But I noticed she wasn't in any of the posted club photos from the night of the murder." Morgan flipped through a few to show Sara.

"Well, maybe because she was outside in the alley waiting to attack Charlene." Sara's phone was ringing as a text came in. "Uni's just found Charlene's – well, Nelson Kern's – car a couple blocks from the club. You want to check it out?"

Morgan nodded. "Absolutely."

Sara rotated the handles backward. "Let's do it."

* * *

><p>Morgan drove them to the car's location and grabbed Sara's chair. They approached the car together. It was an older model vehicle, blue with some paint discoloration, and it was parked in a residential area not far from the club. Two squad cars were parked behind the car, the uniforms talking to each other.<p>

Sara turned to Morgan. "Unis cleared it, but they didn't search it?"

The CSIs started examining the exterior of the car first. Morgan went to the trunk while Sara went to take a look inside. The blonde tried the latch and opened the trunk easily. Inside was another rubber suit.

"Whoa, Sara." Morgan looked over to her friend as she made her way to the trunk. "We know Charlene was Kern's rubber ride the night of his death, but take a look at this." She reached a gloved hand into the trunk, grabbed the mask, and held it up. "This looks familiar. That's Lexy."

"Rubber Charlene's rival doll. I don't get it. Nelson Kern was wearing the Charlene suit when he died. What's he doing with Lexy in the trunk?"

Morgan sighed. "As far as I understand, every guy only has one Rubber Doll persona. Doesn't make sense that Kern would be both Lexy and Charlene."

Sara nodded. "Okay." She turned and wheeled to the backdoor on the passenger side. She opened the door to find a crowbar, bolt cutters, and an empty takeout box. "I got a crowbar and bolt cutters. Break-in gear." She took a picture of the tools.

Morgan was on the other side of the car now. "Kern had a few priors for burglary. Taking a flier on this one, maybe, but let's just say that Nelson Kern usually stepped out at night as Lexy, the belle of the rubber ball. Until Charlene shows up, making Lexy and Kern old news. That would make Kern jealous, right?"

Sara had stood up so she could see Morgan over the car. "Jealous enough, maybe, with his history of B-and-Es to break in and steal Charlene from her owner."

"And then don Charlene for the night."

"I buy it."

Morgan's brow creased in thought. "But if we're right, then who's Cahrlene's owner? And where did Kern steal her from?"

Sara sat down and reached for the tools. "Maybe these will help answer that question. There's some trace in the blades. Looks like concrete powder."

* * *

><p>Armed with the evidence from Kern's car and remembering something he'd seen when he'd visited earlier, Russell went to speak to Stan Brock again. There he discovered that Rubber Charlene's owner was Stan Brock, Charlene Brock's widower. Russell then asked Stan to come down to the station. If the theft of the suit had been the motive for murder, then the questions needed to be asked in a more formal setting.<p>

Russell took his seat across from Mr. Brock. "Stan, you lied to me. Told me you didn't know anything about the suit."

Naturally, Stan became defensive. "My children were right sitting right there. They wouldn't have understood how I…I'd clung to everything that was left of their mother."

Russell looked in the file in front of him. "Is that why you went to this, um, Belinda Goff, had her make you one of those suits?"

"I stumbled across her work online. And I sent her some pictures of Charlene. And I brought my love back to life. It wasn't just dress-up. I could feel Charlene's spirit all around me. Others could feel it, too. The presence of a special being."

"But one of the other dolls didn't appreciate that you stole the spotlight."

Stan's eyes were distant in thought. "Lexy."

Russell nodded. "Right. We found the Lexy suit. We know it belonged to a Nelson Kern. His DNA is all over it. Mr. Kern took a look at you and Charlene, and he figured that if he couldn't outshine the new girl, he'd find some way to become her. Broke into your place, he stole the suit and he took your wife out for a spin. And that cost him his life, didn't it?"

Stan looked pained to even have that theory entertained as a possibility. "Mr. Russell, much as I cherish the memory of my wife, her beauty, and wanted to possess it, I would never hurt someone else for trying to possess it too."

* * *

><p>Russell was inclined to believe Stan, so it was time to move on to looking for another suspect, and Finn had something that might help. "I was doing some digging, and I checked police activity in the alley the night of the murders. There was a parking ticket issued to an Escalade, and the carpet fiber trace that we found on the Charlene suit is consistent with the interior of an Escalade. And the vehicle is registered to this guy."<p>

Russell recognized the face. "I met him at the club. He's one of their admirers. Let's bring him in."

* * *

><p>Adrian Graham was one of those vain men who believed the world revolved around him. Finn glanced at him through the window to the interrogation room. He was dressed in a high end, possibly tailored suit and examining the fingernails on his right hand quite intently. Finn would probably have to play to his vanities to get him to open up.<p>

Finn walked into the room with a big smile on her face. "Hi, Adrian, I'm CSI Finlay. I, uh, would like to talk to you about Cahrlene." Finn set the folder on the table and took off her jacket. "We know she was in your vehicle. We found carpet fibers that are consistent with the interior of an Escalade on her doll suit."

Graham stopped the slide of the paper Finn had slipped toward him. "You know what it is I love about the dolls at the club? How little they speak." He looked up at Finn with swagger in his gaze. "They're as close to the ideal woman as I've ever met."

Finn grinned. "Wow." She had thought him arrogant before, but this man took that to a whole new level. "I can't imagine how you could have struck out with real woman." Finn's sarcasm was almost visibly dripping from her mouth as she took a seat on the table near him.

Graham chuckled. "Well, real women are just as fake… but lie about it."

"Well, if I were to tell you that my eyelashes are not this great…" Finn noticed his eyes wandered as he checked her out, "would you be honest with me?" The flirtation seemed to be working.

Graham smiled, considered Finn's proposal, and then nodded. "Fair enough. Charlene did join me in the vehicle. We'd been flirting with each other for the past few weeks at the club."

Finn sat up a little on the edge of the table and flipped her hair subtly. "So, tell me what happened in the car."

He shrugged. "Oh, we, uh, played around. Then she left."

Finn wasn't buying what he was selling. "With abrasions on her arms and a bite mark in her shoulder?" She leaned over to check out his teeth. "Which I bet is going to be a match to those fake veneers you got in there." The laugh she ended with should take a bit of the sting out of the insult.

Graham laughed too. "What can I say?" He shrugged. "I like rough sex. She had thick skin."

"I did my research on you, and I did find that you have a history of sexual assault."

He was still playing it smooth. "Allegations. All dropped."

"Uh-huh." Finn looked at him for a moment, no longer flirting; it was time to flip the script. "Well, you know what I think happened? I think that Charlene was so messed up that she decided to get into your car." Finn stood, walked back to her chair, and placed her hands against the table, leaning toward him. "And then when you started to hurt her, she bailed. So you followed her, 'cause you didn't like getting rejected by a blow-up doll, and then you stabbed her. Stripped off her suit, because everybody at the club knows who Charlene is, but, uh, Nelson Kern, he's a nobody."

During Finn's story of events, Graham had been getting steadily more irritated that she would have the nerve to talk about him that way. His face had lost the swagger, his neck muscles got tight, and his left hand had developed a tick. Finn didn't let up, trying to see what it would take for him to snap. Unfortunately, she reached the end of her story before he let anything slip. This smooth talker was a little tougher than she had thought.

Graham chuckled and leaned forward. "Well, the truth is…I showed her too good of a time. She couldn't contain herself. And the voice that groaned out?" He scoffed in disgust. "Deep-sixed the mood. I kicked her out and drove off." He sat back. "Am I free to go?"

Finn looked at him for a long moment more, and then walked out. Someone else would take care of that snake-tongued weasel. She smirked. He would have to take a taxi home because his car was in their garage for processing. Graham would love that. And she was going to enjoy tearing that thing apart.

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><p><strong>AN: The next chapter will close out "Rubbery Homicide" and I think that with Sara's absence from this week's episode I'll be starting on another non-canon story. Stay tuned and leave a comment in the box below. Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Two chapters in two days, that's a rarity for me. First off, I'd like to thank joann and phnxgrl for their reviews. We get to see a little more of Sara in this chapter, and I did have to flip one scene slightly, I hope you don't mind. We are starting with Sara and the items from Graham's SUV sex shop. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 9<span>

Sara had the contents of Adrian Graham's car sex kit spread on the low table in front of her. She'd been methodically checking each item for small traces of blood while Finn checked the interior of the SUV itself. Finn had come back from interrogating Graham in a "he's-a-creep" mood, so Sara was glad to both help her out and stay out of the way. So far, none of the items had any blood on them but there were still a couple items left to check, so she might get lucky.

Russell came through the doorway behind Sara. "Got any evidence from the suspect's SUV yet?"

Sara had grabbed a large white bottle and was about to spray it, but paused to answer Russell. "Finn is still working the carpets and upholstery, but so far we haven't found any blood. Even though Kern was stabbed outside, in the alley…"

Russell nodded. "Yeah, you would expect that Graham would have tracked some of the blood back into the vehicle."

Sara moved the bottle into spraying position. "You sure would."

Russell picked up one of the toys with a gloved hand. "What is all this lovely stuff?" The toy he'd selected was a pink feathered riding crop.

Sara looked at the contents of the table. "Well, this is Adrian Graham's mobile sex pantry. Lotions, lubes and other sinful sundries that he kept in his SUV. We found them neatly organized. I was hoping in his cleanup that he left a smear of blood behind," she sprayed the bottle of lotion, "but, uh, no such luck."

Russell noticed a different bottle as Sara put the lotion back in its place. "Excuse me a sec, here." She pulled her arm back and he grabbed the bottle of baby oil. "Baby oil. Nick found trace amounts of baby oil on the Charlene suit. Now, it's possible that… that some of this got transferred from the suit onto the assailant."

Sara looked skeptical. "I'm not sure what that gets us. Graham already admitted that he was with her. He just denies being there for the murder."

Russell nodded. "Right, but whoever the killer is, we have no indication of his movements in that alley in the moments right after the death."

Sara shook her head in agreement. "No shoeprints, no blood trail." Russell held up and shook the bottle of baby oil, a smile on his face. Sara realized what Russell was getting at and smiled too. "Oil trail could be very helpful."

* * *

><p>They returned to the crime scene and went to the spot where Kern had been murdered. While they were in the car on their way, Sara had changed the settings on the ALSs so they would show oil through the viewing filter and not biologicals. She had one ALS in her lap and Russell had the other. With any luck, this experiment would give them a trail to follow.<p>

"Baby oil fluoresces at a lower frequency than biologicals," She turned her ALS on, "so I've set the AlSs at 525 nanometers."

Russell turned his on as well and they shined the lights in the same direction. "There's a lot of oil here, where the body was."

"Uh-huh."

D.B. moved his light a little and noticed something. "Oh, there you go. Trail of oil going off in this direction."

Side by side, Sara and Russell started following the trail. "Oily part of the suit must have been dragged along."

The oil trail led them down the alley. A few yards beyond the spot where Kern had died, the trail started heading toward the garage door of a home backing the alley. Sara stopped in front of the door and Russell continued a couple steps more to see the trail meet the wall below a circuit box. The oil was smeared on the wall below the box.

"Huh, brushed the wall here." Russell panned his light up the trail. Sara pulled out a flashlight and shined it on the box. Russell reached a gloved hand up and took something from the top of the box. "It's the murder weapon."

Sara looked up at Russell, her flashlight shining on the object he was holding. "It's a nail file." She took it from his hands to get a closer look. "Consistent with the wounds that Doc Robbins found. Sharp-pointed but square-edged."

Russell shone his flashlight on the file. "See this logo right here? That's the Brock family modeling agency."

Sara handed the file back to Russell. "Murder with a corporate sponsor."

* * *

><p>Finn selected a photo from the file in front of her. "We pulled a fingerprint off the weapon, Jonah." She placed the picture of his print on the handle of the nail file in front of Jonah Brock. "And it's yours."<p>

He looked at the photo for a moment. "The weapon is one of twenty I gifted friends of our agency at the memorial after my mom died." Finn was looking unconvinced, so Jonah continued. "It was a gesture in her honor."

Finn didn't believe him. "Really? A nail file as a tribute?"

"It was kind of her thing. Those dealing with Charlene Brock knew that if she started working on her cuticles… she wasn't happy, and you better make her happy. I gave the file out as a memento. My prints might be on every one of 'em"

Finn tossed her hair. "You know, I might buy that… had I not learned about another file." She flipped to a different page in her folder. "Your recent motion to remove your father as head of the modeling agency." Finn set a small stack of papers in front of Charlene's son.

It was clear on his face that he didn't really want to discuss this. "Uh… the company started slipping after my mom died. She was the guts, the-the cutthroat, the whip that my dad needed. And after she died, I noticed that he started slipping. Professionally and otherwise."

Finn nodded. "You knew about his Rubber Dolling. I think you… talk about it in your statement." She reached for the papers in front of Jonah.

He jumped in. "Hey. Yeah, I knew all about that. I saw a few of his selfies when I borrowed his laptop one day." Jonah paused, then tried to be dismissive. "Hey, whatever the old man needs to get his kicks." He shrugged. "But… if a rival photo agency pops a picture of him in his… costume… everything that he and my mom built goes away."

Finn saw more than just his concern for the agency. "Instead of going to you." Jonah sat up, his eyes cold to deflect her accusation. "The board shut you down, which left you only one other way to take your dad out of the picture. You just didn't know that the wrong man was in the suit."

He chuckled and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Ms. Finlay, I didn't stab anyone, and I'll prove it to you. I spent the night of the crime producing a photo shoot, and I spent the rest of the evening in the company of one of the models." Finn nodded, sure that any of the models at the agency would alibi him to keep her job. Jonah must have seen her disbelief because he threw in the kicker. "I have video."

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><p>Nick watched the video confirming Jonah Brock's alibi. Partway through, Greg came in and informed him that DNA on the nail file came back to an unknown female with trace that Hodges had identified as bits of gold. Nick scrolled to a point of the video where the nails of the model Jonah had been with were clearly visible. The model's nails had gold nail polish on them. The team found out who the model was and contacted her for some information. It turned out that the model's nails had been filed by the assistant at the photo shoot.<p>

This brought Russell back to the Brock residence. "Ms. Irina Turri. You remember her, right?" He dropped the photo of Irina with Jonah in front of April Brock. "Now, she's back in Helsinki right now. We couldn't bring her in, but we talked to her on the phone, and she said that her nails were filed by the assistant at the photo shoot. That would be you, right, April?"

A great poker face must be genetic in this family. April sat on the couch with Russell standing above her with her eyes wide, but cold and detached. The evidence and motive was coming together and yet she sat there as though remaining mute would make it go away.

Russell wasn't easily detoured. "That same file found its way into Nelson Kern's neck."

"I already told you I didn't know that man. Why would I stab him?"

Russell took a seat. "Well, because you weren't stabbing him, were you? You were stabbing your mother. And your father."

Her eyes were pleading. "I love my father. I was the one who defended him when my brother tried to destroy him." Anger had crept into her voice.

"Right." Russell flipped a page in her notebook. "The business deposition, right? You painted your dad as having… suffered under your mother's tyranny. It's quite a eulogy for your… for your mom."

April shrugged. "It was the truth. Dad and I always stood by each other, ever since I was a kid, every time my mom would…" she trailed off, the painful memory stuck in her throat.

Russell tried to prompt her. "Would… would what?"

April glared at Russell. "If you didn't live up to my mother's expectations, she would crush you. And I guess the perfect daughter that she wanted wasn't me, so… it's hard enough to see that in your mom's eyes. It's harder when she…" April closed her eyes before she continued, "starts taking it out on you."

Russell nodded. "I can see that. So when your… when your mother passed away, you must have felt like you were…" he sighed, "free of her cruelty. Your dad was free, too."

She wasn't about to accept Russell's pity. "We'd survived. We were done with her."

"Only your father didn't want to be. He still loved her. He loved your mother. He loved her so much he wanted to bring her back to life." April was starting to show her emotions, so Russell kept pushing. "See, I think that was a betrayal that you just… you couldn't live with. Could you?"

Emotion choked her voice. "I would have ignored it. Pretended like I didn't know about the locked room, the suit. What I saw when I followed him that night…" She spoke about the club and what she'd seen there. "You know, as ghastly as it was I could have forgiven him. But then he made his choice." Whatever the choice was, she couldn't hold in her anger with it.

"What choice?"

April hesitated, a tear slipping from her eye. She brushed it away and took the plunge. "Four days ago, I-I turned thirty. The only person in the world I wanted to celebrate with was Dad, and then he called," she was crying now, the tears falling unchecked from her eyes, "and said he didn't feel well and he needed to cancel. And I could hear the club music in the background."

"He chose your mother over you. Again. Then what happened? You go out, follow her into the alley? You wait for her to be alone?"

She was shaking her head. She didn't want to talk about it, but the story eventually tumbled out. Russell listened patiently, only speaking when April stopped. She spoke of the Escalade driving off; of waiting for Charlene to pass so she could attack from behind. Of watching the body stop moving. How she took off the mask.

"Then you realized your mistake. Why did you rip off the suit?"

April's eyes looked into the distance as the memory filler her mind. "I had to throw her away."

* * *

><p>Sara was signing for a package when Russell returned to the lab. "How'd it go?"<p>

He sighed. "She confessed. PD are booking her now. What's this for?"

Sara smiled. "This is for my kit." The delivery guy took the clipboard back and left. "I figured it would be better to have it delivered here so I could use it right away."

"Judging from the box, some assembly might be necessary."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. I think Nick is setting up a table in the garage."

Russell picked up the box. "Well, let's not keep him waiting, shall we?"

Sara led the way. "You guys help me put this together, breakfast is on me."

"It's a deal."

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><p><strong>AN: Due to the quick posting, it will be a few days before the next chapter is posted. This next set of chapters will be AU a bit (meaning no episode to guide the narrative). In the interim, I would be so grateful to get as many reviews as possible (it might inspire me to write faster, hint, hint) Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgirl, joann, mt6shock, and LichMaster701 for their reviews. joann: I will attempt to put Finn and Sara in more scenes together. mt6shock: I love the episodes where a particular character is in trouble and the team rallies around that character. It just makes sense that they would do the same in this situation too. LichMaster701: Welcome to the story, and I'm glad you are enjoying it!**

**This set of chapters is not from the show and took a surprising amount of time to write. With that in mind, I apologize for the weeklong absence from posting and hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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><p><span>Chapter 10<span>

Sara pulled at her desk, trying to scoot the office chair in. Her doctor had said the transition from one chair to another helped improve circulation, so Sara was trying out the desk chair for the first time. Maybe that structure over her desk wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

Nick walked in. "Need some help?"

Sara pulled a face; she didn't want help, but she was stuck without it. "Yes. Thank you." He pushed her chair in. "You still have that sketch for the structure?"

Nick chuckled. "Should I be taking that as a yes?"

She smiled. "Yeah. The other option is one of those mats that make it easy to roll a desk chair, but then I wouldn't be able to make the transition."

He sat at his desk. "I'll get to work on it."

Ecklie walked in. "Uh, Nick, could you give me and Sara a minute?"

Nick and Sara glanced at each other, Nick's face concerned for his colleague. "Sure. I think Hodges should have my results by now."

Ecklie shut the door after Nick. "Sara, I'm not sure how to say this."

Sara didn't like where this was going. "What's going on?"

"You're going to have to undergo a review. I was hoping we could avoid this, but I don't have a choice now."

"I thought my work was still where it should be?"

Ecklie sat on the edge of Finn's desk. "It's not something I wanted to call in. I mean, you've been back for two months, your work is as good as always."

"So why?"

"One of the first cases you worked when you came back. The defense is trying to get the evidence you collected thrown out." Ecklie crossed his arms. "I'm hoping that a review team can set the precedent, make it impossible for the defense to use your disability as a way to get evidence thrown out."

"And what happens when the review team agrees with the defense?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Ecklie looked at Sara. "I have every confidence that you'll be fine. They arrive at the end of the week. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

Sara turned her head away from him to conceal the tear threatening to fall. "Thanks."

Ecklie stood and left. Sara blinked rapidly to try and get rid of the tear, her lower lip trembling. Russell had assured her that her job was safe. Now Ecklie was calling in a review team as a preemptive strike against the attempts by a defense lawyer to have the evidence she collected called into question.

Finn walked in. "Hey, Sara, did Henry give you the results for…" She noticed Sara's face. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Sara took a deep breath and sighed. "Ecklie just told me he's called in a review team. Wants to set a precedent."

"What? Why?"

Sara looked at her hands while Finn took her seat. "It's because of one of the first cases I worked after…" She waved a hand at herself to demonstrate what she meant. "Apparently the defense is arguing that I mishandled evidence because of my injury."

Finn's eyes conveyed her concern. "Sara, I'm sorry."

Sara gave a forced smile and shook her head. "He thinks I'll be fine; I'm not so sure. I mean... they're not going to understand what this is like."

Finn nodded. "But their job isn't to understand, it's to assess whether you can do your job according to regulation. I'm with Ecklie, you've got this. When do they arrive?"

"End of the week."

"It's okay to be nervous, but that can't change how you work." Finn rolled her chair closer to Sara and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be at your side the whole time if you want."

Sara looked up at Finn and smiled. "That'd be nice."

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><p>The next four days seemed very stressful to Sara. At every crime scene, she was hyper aware of everything she did. By now, everyone was aware of the upcoming review. They could see the stress Sara was under and tried to be as encouraging as possible. Nick had finished putting together the structure and it had made all the difference. He had also designed it to double as a shelf for storage above the bars she used to adjust her position at her desk. He had also added a footrest to her desk chair so she wouldn't drag her feet every time she swiveled her chair.<p>

Sara was finishing her report on the latest crime scene she'd worked when Russell called her into his office. "You wanted to see me?"

Russell nodded. "Yes, come in. I just got a text from Ecklie. Two members of the review team just called to inform him they'd touched down. They'll be here soon. Are you ready?"

Sara shrugged. "Do I have much of a choice?"

Russell smiled. "No, not really."

"Do we know who they are, where they're from?"

"No. Ecklie didn't say. I'm sure you'll be fine though."

Sara looked down. "I'm nervous. Reviews like this don't have a good reputation, no matter what lab you're at."

Russell nodded slowly. "Yeah, but, not every review ends the way Cliff Ballard's did. That only happens when the CSI under review has committed a crime. You're being evaluated to make sure the wheelchair doesn't affect your ability to follow regulation."

"And you think I'll be fine."

"I do." His phone buzzed with a text. "Oh, that was fast. They're at the front desk." He stood and headed out the door.

Sara followed him out. "I'll try to be nice."

Russell chuckled as they headed down the hall. Two people were standing by the reception desk, clipping visitors' badges to their blazers. The woman was tall with mid-length brown hair and a number of bracelets on her right wrist. The man was a few inches shorter with dirty blonde hair and a more relaxed style. Both had a small carryon bag sitting next to their feet.

D.B. looked delighted to see them. "New York's finest. I didn't know you were coming." He shook hands with both of them.

The woman's smile was big and warm, her Alabama accent making it seem like your favorite aunt was visiting. "D.B., so good to see you again."

The man nodded to the supervisor, his Brooklyn accent strong. "How you doin'?"

Sara had no idea who they were. "Uh, Russell? You know them?"

He moved so they could all see each other. "Right, where are my manners? Jo Danville and Danny Messer from the New York crime lab. You know their boss, Mac Taylor."

Recognition spread across Sara's face. "Oh, nice to meet you. How's Christine?"

Jo smiled. "She's doing great, thanks to your help. Mac and Christine are actually married now."

"Wow. Tell them congratulations."

"I will. You must be Sara Sidle."

Sara and Jo shook hands. "I am."

Ecklie walked in as Danny and Sara shook hands. "Oh, good, you found it. The others will be here in about an hour. You can leave your bags in the break room if you like."

Danny and Jo picked up their travel bags. "Lead the way, boss."

When the two visitors were out of earshot, Sara turned to Russell. "You've spent time with them. What are they like?"

Russell smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. With those two on the review team, you're going to be fine."

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><p>The other three CSIs that made up the review team arrived only 45 minutes later. Ecklie briefed them all on the main purpose of the review in the break room. Soon after that meeting wrapped, a case came in. Russell paired Sara with Morgan and promised that Finn would assist them after she returned from a B and E case with Nick.<p>

The CSIs from New York were going to observe this scene. Morgan stored the wheelchair behind Sara and the two observers had to share the tight space left over. Sara buckled up, still nervous about this whole thing. Morgan shot Sara a reassuring smile and drove the group to the scene. Detective Crawford was already there, waiting for them by the police tape.

Crawford approached while Sara transitioned to her chair. "Victim's name is Karen Stewart, 34. She was found by a woman out walking her dog. Dog suddenly wanted to go down the alley, owner let him lead, found her next to the dumpster and called it in."

Morgan attached Sara's kit holder to the chair. "Is David here yet?" She slid Sara's kit into the basket.

"Yeah, he arrived a couple minutes ago."

Sara propelled her chair forward. "Let's see what we got."

Morgan grabbed her own kit. "After you."

Crawford held up his hand to stop the CSIs from New York. "Who are they?"

Sara pointed to each of the visitors to introduce them. "Jo Danville, Danny Messer; they're with the New York crime lab and they are here to observe me. Ecklie didn't tell you?"

His phone buzzed with a text. "He has now." He put it away. "Sorry, guys. I didn't know."

Jo smiled and went to shake his hand. "That's quite alright. We'll stay out of your way."

The group continued into the alley to meet with David Phillips. "Hey, David. What do we have?"

He looked up at them. "Hey, Sara. Meet Karen Stewart. C.O.D. might be the stab wounds to her back. There's not much blood here though."

"So dump job." Sara swiveled her kit basket to the left so it was next to her. She pulled the kit out of the basket, rotated the basket so it became a table, and set her kit on it. She opened the kit and took out her camera. "Do you have an estimate for how long she's been dead?"

David shook his head. "I have a liver temp but it was very cold last night, so it'll take a little math."

Sara smirked. "I like math. Shoot me the numbers."

"Okay. It is," he checked his watch, "5:24 right now. Liver temp is 75°, current ambient temp is 42°, and last night got down to about 39°."

Sara looked up in thought. "Well, the average human body loses about one point five degrees Celsius of body heat per hour, factor in the changing temperatures and she's been dead approximately eleven and a half to fourteen hours. That would T.O.D. between 3:30 and 7pm yesterday."

"Very nice." David held up one of Stewart's hands. "Fingerprints were sliced through; maybe trying to conceal her identity?"

Morgan stopped taking pictures of the crime scene. "How do we know her name then?"

Crawford held up an evidence bag with a purse inside. "Her ID was found in the dumpster right over there."

"So he's not very smart."

Sara took some photos of the victim's fingertips. "Seems odd that they would dump her ID near the body when they cut up her fingertips to prevent us from IDing her."

Morgan turned to Sara. "Maybe her fingertips getting sliced wasn't on purpose. Maybe it was from something else."

David shook his head. "I don't think so; the cuts are very precise."

Sara went over to Crawford. "Can I see the ID?" The Detective handed it over. "New York driver's license. She wasn't local." She turned to the observers. "You're from New York. Any insights?"

Jo took the evidence bag from Sara and held it up. "The ID looks real, but we've been coming across some really good fakes back home. I'd have to take a closer look to see if this is one of them."

Danny took out his phone to send a text. "I'll have my wife run the name; forward what she finds to your lab."

Sara looked at the victim. "Who are you?"

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><p><strong>AN: ****I have a question for you all. The episode last night (Dead Rails) had very little of Sara in it. Should I adapt it anyway or skip it? Comment below with your recommendation or PM me so I know what you want me to do. Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank joann, mt6shock, phnxgrl, and Dee for their reviews. mt6shock: you're going to have to explain the gsr part of your comment; I'm still not very familiar with the fanfiction slang for CSI. Dee: Yes, I did. Right now, I'm writing up the chapter where they get to talk about it a little. This chapter starts a few minutes after the last one ended. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 11<span>

Finn arrived ten minutes after David transported the body back to the morgue. "So, what'd I miss?"

"Victim's name is Karen Stuart, 34. Her finger tips were sliced up and her ID was dumped in the trash a few feet away." Morgan knelt down, snapped a picture of something under the dumpster, and pulled it out with a gloved hand. "And maybe this is what did the slicking."

Finn was gloving up. "A straight razor."

Sara was collecting a swab from where the victim had been resting. "That would do the trick." She capped the cotton swab and slipped it in the labeled box.

Morgan turned to Sara. "I don't have a knife tube on me, but there should be some in the SUV."

Sara took off her gloves. "Toss me the keys." Morgan tossed the keys to Sara. She set them in her lap, put her kit in the traveling position, and headed to the car. Danville followed her. Sara hit the unlock button when she got close and pulled the latch to raise the door. The mobile crime scene analysis unit made it easy to have most of the things they'd need to properly examine a crime scene. The kits they used on the scene had a few sizes of evidence baggies on hand, but the SUV housed the larger bags, tubes, and boxes they might need for the larger pieces of evidence they might come across.

Sara parked herself in front of the open hatch, moved her kit basket to the left, and "stood up" so she could reach everything. Danville was impressed. "I didn't know there were wheelchairs that could do that."

Sara smirked as she opened the bin holding the tubes. "Yeah, it's helped a lot so far." She set the plastic-wrapped tube on the edge of the trunk and sat down again. "I don't have to rely on everyone doing everything for me."

"I was wondering how you got in the car. Danny and I were on the wrong side to see."

Sara hit the button to automatically close the back door, the tube on her lap. "It took us a week to figure out the best method. Now it's easy."

They started back to Morgan. "I saw how you get out of the car. Are you able to drive at all?"

Sara shook her head. "No, I don't have a modified car yet. I'm looking into it though. Until then, everyone takes turns picking me up for work."

"And the basket for your kit, when the chair is collapsed, that has to be removed every time?"

"Yeah, the company that made the basket didn't send a hinged counterweight like I'd ordered. I hope it comes soon." She unwrapped the tube and handed it to Morgan.

"Thank you." Morgan slipped the razor into the tube and taped the cap in place. "It looks like there's a little blood on it."

Finn was panning her flashlight over the crime scene. "Where you found it says it was discarded in a hurry."

Morgan set the tube on her open kit. "I'm getting mixed signals about the killer. They cut her fingertips, presumably to conceal her identity, but they leave her ID and a straight razor at the crime scene. It doesn't make sense."

Finn had switched to the ALS. "Whoa. When did the victim die?"

"Between 3:30 and 7 yesterday, why?"

"Was she wet?"

Sara and Morgan looked at each other. "Not that I recall, why?"

"Put on your filter glasses. You need to see this."

Sara and Morgan put on their orange UV Filter Glasses. "Oh, that's a lot of blood."

Morgan nodded. "We had assumed that she'd been dumped here. This might actually be our primary."

Finn moved the ALS, following the flow of blood. "The killer probably used a hose to clean up the crime scene."

Sara noticed a faucet for a hose. "There's a spigot here. Could be where they hooked up the hose."

"Get a sample of the water for comparison." Finn swabbed the wall, and tested it for blood. "Positive for blood."

Sara dusted the tap for prints. "I got a partial print here." She photographed it and then lifted it. "Maybe the killer forgot to wipe the handle."

Finn grabbed her kit. "I'm going to set up for some ALS photos of the wall."

Morgan smiled. "Then the Blood Whisperer can really do her thing."

"You know it."

Sara closed the tap when the container of water was full enough. "This water is pretty dirty; should be easy enough to match it to any residue left behind on the wall or the victim's body."

Morgan's phone buzzed. "Nick and Greg are busy, so Doc wants us to help with the prelim evidence collection."

Finn had returned with the equipment she would need. "You should go then. I can finish up here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, not a problem."

Sara sealed the bag on the water container. "See you back at the lab."

* * *

><p>In the morgue, Danville and Messer were relieved by a CSI from Chicago and another from Denver. The CSI from Chicago was a tall African American man named Louis Andrews. He had the kind of handshake that made you instantly trust him. The CSI from Denver was a tiny woman named Margaret Lance. She had a wide smile and would shake your hand with both of hers.<p>

Sara introduced the pair to Doc, who quickly made sure to tell them to stand along the wall and not touch anything. Morgan and Sara got to work. Sara started with getting the victim's fingerprints. It didn't really matter that the prints were cut; it just meant they would have to reassemble them in the computer.

Morgan carefully removed the victim's clothing with David and Sara's help. Each piece was laid on a large piece of butcher paper, rolled up in the paper, and placed in large paper evidence bags. The back of each item of clothing had more visible blood than the front, supporting Finn's theory that the crime scene had been hosed down. They also discovered just how many stab wounds Stewart had in her back.

Sara took a photo. "That looks like it was painful."

Morgan looked up. "I've already counted fifteen stab wounds."

"That says rage. This may have been personal." Sara collected a few swabs from some of the wounds and one from the inside of her mouth for Henry to run DNA.

Doc came back in. "Is she ready?"

Morgan nodded. "You can take over."

Sara rotated the handles back on her chair. "You'll call when you're done?"

"By then, you'll be off shift. Just come in right after you've clocked in tonight."

"You got it, Doc."

The group left the morgue and headed back upstairs to the lab to see that Finn was just getting back from the crime scene. Sara was feeling a bit better about this review now. The team members were asking questions about her chair and how the kit basket worked. She had to admit that unlike the review teams she'd been a part of in the past, this one really was just to see how well she could do her job now.

Russell was coming out of the office Sara shared with her colleagues. "There you are, Sara. A package arrived for you." He handed her a small box.

She recognized the return address. "Ah, this must be the counterweight. I hope they got it right this time."

Russell turned to the observers. "Grave shift just ended a few minutes ago, so you should probably go collect your bags and head to your hotels. Thanks for coming, and make sure you get some sleep. We start up again at eleven tonight."

Andrews and Lance nodded, shook hands with Sara, Russell and Morgan, and headed for the break room. Sara went into the office and opened the package. As she'd hoped, it was the part she'd been waiting for. Morgan helped Sara detach the basket from the chair. Sara grabbed her toolkit and got to work removing the current counterweight so she could replace it with the new one.

Jo Danville knocked on the door frame, her carryon in hand. "We're heading out; see you tonight."

Sara looked up. "Okay, see you then."

Danville noticed the part in Sara's hands. "I take it the new counterweight came in?"

Sara nodded and tightened the screws to attach it. "Yeah, it just arrived this morning."

"Well, enjoy your… I almost said night. Morning, I guess."

Sara smiled. "Day shift at home?"

"For the most part. We're on call too." She turned to leave then turned back. "Danny and I were going to get some breakfast before we turned in. Know any good spots?"

Morgan put her purse over her shoulder. "Walk me to the door and I'll give you directions to three of my favorites."

"Sounds good." Jo waved to Sara. "Bye for now."

Sara tested the counter weight. "Take care."

Finn walked in. "Review team headed out?"

Sara locked the hinge back in place, satisfied that it looked like would work. "Yeah. Morgan's giving the CSIs from New York a few breakfast spots to go to."

"Need help putting that on?"

Sara handed the attachment to Finn. "Sure."

Finn put the basket on the back support of Sara's wheelchair. "Let's see how it works."

Sara locked her brakes, unlocked the counterweight hinge, and stood up. Now the basket for her kit remained in its traveling position and she could still be upright. She smiled at the improvement and rotated the handles backward to return to a sitting position again.

"That helps a lot."

"Your chair should be a lot more convenient to transport now." Finn grabbed her purse and keys. "Ready to head out?"

Sara locked the hinge and unlocked her wheels. "Let's go."

Finn's car required less effort to get in and out than the SUVs did. On the way home, Finn filled Sara in on the evidence she'd collected after Morgan and Sara had left the scene. Sara told Finn about the other two CSIs who'd observed her in the morgue. At this point she'd only been introduced to the fifth member of the review team; he was quiet man whose face didn't betray much. Sara wasn't even sure where he came from.

Finn pulled the wheelchair out of the trunk when they got to Sara's house. "I was right. Having the basket stay attached is so much easier now."

Sara grabbed her legs and swung them out of the car. "That's the idea."

Finn brought the wheelchair to the passenger door and Sara made the transition. "You got it from here?"

Sara nodded. "As always. Thanks for the ride."

"Of course. I think Greg is getting you tonight."

"Okay. See you later." Sara rolled up the driveway, unlocked her front door, and waved to Finn. Finn waved back and drove off. Sara reached up, typed in the alarm code, and closed the door behind her. She could really use a nice hot bath right about now.

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><p><strong>AN: At the end of the l****ast chapter, I put an inquiry out to my readers and got mixed results. So far I have one for adapting the episode, one for not, and one that is mostly no. I'm going to leave the question up for others to weigh in on it before I decide. The question is: The latest episode (Dead Rails) had very little of Sara in it. Should I adapt it anyway or skip it? Comment below with your recommendation or PM me so I know what you want me to do. Thanks for your input!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, Guest, joann, mt6shock, and Dee for their reviews. mt6shock: Thanks for the clarification. Guest: I'm a little confused what you meant by "what are you comfortable with?" I could go either way on the episode; I was wanting to see what the readers wanted. joann: Are we shipping them together, or just more interaction between the two? Dee: This is the chapter.**

**This chapter is a little longer than previous chapters. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 12<span>

Sleep was still awkward more than six months after her paralysis. Before, if she wanted to change her position in her sleep, she would just do so. Now she'd wake up every time because her legs didn't move on their own. Most days weren't so bad. On the days where her body was just exhausted, she would fall asleep and stay in the same position most of the afternoon. Today wasn't one of those day. Sara groaned when she woke up again.

Sara sat up, moved her legs, and lay down again. "Come on sleep, where are you?"

She stared at the ceiling for a long time. Her mind wandered immediately to the review. She was sure that her inability to sleep was caused by more than just her paralysis. She was also stressed by the review. It seemed to be going well, but looks could be deceiving. There was still one reviewer that hadn't watched her in the field or the lab. She was worried that this one would be the troublemaker for her.

By the time her alarm went off, Sara was already getting dressed. She had gotten a few more hours of interrupted sleep. Sara finished getting ready for the night shift and rolled out to the kitchen. She prepared a quick breakfast, packed a lunch to take to work and then ate her breakfast while listening to a CD Morgan had given her while she was in the hospital. It was a collection of songs that were apparently popular right now. Sara smiled; almost three years ago, Morgan, Sara, and Finn had embarked on a spa trip that had not gone well. While at a karaoke bar, Sara had revealed that she didn't know who Beyoncé was. Morgan had taken it upon herself to educate Sara on popular music.

Sara rinsed her bowl and put it in the dishwasher. Some of the music Morgan had included on the disk was actually quite good. That didn't mean she could always name who was singing each piece. Sara grabbed her bag and went to the window to watch for Greg. A car pulled up outside and stopped. The driver's side door opened and Hodges stepped out. Sara was confused, and went out to find out what was going on.

"Hey, Hodges. What are you doing here?"

Hodges opened the trunk. "I'm here to take you to work."

Sara set the house alarm and locked up. "I thought Greg was getting me."

"He was, but a case came in and he was closest. Do you have a problem with that?"

Sara smiled. "No, that's fine. Just took me by surprise is all." She parked her chair by the passenger door and transitioned to the seat.

Hodges collapsed the chair and stored it in the trunk. She settled in and he got in the driver's seat. "Buckle up."

Sara's belt was already sliding home. "I think I got it already."

"I know. I just always say that when someone is in the car with me. It makes me feel like I've done my part to keep everyone safe."

Sara smiled at Hodges. "Not a bad habit to have."

The rest of the ride was uneventful. They talked about the case and how the review was going. It sounded like the last reviewer had spent his time talking to all her colleagues while she was out in the field or the morgue. Hodges told her that he didn't like this Reginald Fowler; he was the kind of guy who would take things out of context if given half the chance.

"I told him about the ramp in the layout room, and he made it sound like we'd added a tripping hazard in there." Hodges shook his head. "Just be careful when you talk to him. He has Grissom's silent wisdom vibe at first blush, but then he opens his mouth and all I can think about is a lawyer who eats snake venom for inspiration."

"Thanks for the warning."

Morgan was waiting at the front desk when Sara rolled in. "Finn's trying to reconstruct the blood patterns in the garage, and Doc is ready for us downstairs." She looked up. "Thanks, Hodges."

"Happy to help. I should see if your trace results are done yet."

Sara matched her speed to Morgan's gait. "Who's watching us now?"

"Danny Messer and Reginald Fowler. Should be interesting."

"So, you know which lab he's from?"

"Fowler? I think he said Iowa."

"Iowa?"

Morgan hit the button to call the elevator and the doors opened right away. "I looked it up; the crime lab in Iowa is in Ankeny. That's a suburb of Des Moines with a population of about 51,000."

The doors opened on the basement floor which housed the morgue. David Phillips was just putting on his white lab coat and waved to them before heading into the autopsy room. Morgan and Sara paused long enough to put on their own. Just inside the swinging doors, it sounded like Doc was in a heated discussion with a voice that Sara didn't recognize. Danny's Brooklyn accent broke in to try and calm things down a bit. Sara and Morgan looked at each other and then pushed through the doors.

Doc was looking a little upset as he turned his back on Fowler. "This is my morgue. I'm going to run it the way I see fit, not how you want me to. You might have convinced the CSIs and Coroner back home that things should be done in a way to accommodate your OCD, but in Vegas I do what works best for me. Get used to it."

Fowler crossed his arms and noticed that Sara and Morgan were in the room. "Took you long enough to get down here."

Morgan turned to the unpleasant investigator. "We didn't want to interrupt your lively debate."

Sara shot Morgan a furtive grin and wheeled over to the autopsy table. "What can you tell us, Doc?"

"I heard that Morgan counted fifteen stab wounds this morning. Under the blood, that's what it looked like, but once I got her cleaned up, I noticed that a couple of them were actually two stab wounds on top of each other. That would make seventeen stab wounds in total."

Sara locked her wheels and stood up. "How common is it to overlap stab wounds?"

Doc pointed the two he'd noticed. "In an attack like this, quite common actually. Notice how the stab wounds are close together?"

Morgan leaned down to take a closer look. "I didn't notice the grouping before. It actually looks like two groupings maybe."

"You're exactly right. Wound angles confirm it. There were two attackers and they both used their own weapons."

Sara had noticed the difference in wound size. "One blade was narrower than the other."

"I already told Finn so she could get started on her scene reconstruction. The attacker on the left was between 6' and 6'5" and the one on the right was between 5'6" and 5'11" which would explain the differences in angle."

Sara nodded. "What can you tell us about the knives?"

"As you said, one was narrower than the other. Both were approximately six inches in length. The one used in this grouping," he indicated the group of wounds on Stewart's left side, "left some sort of blue trace in the wounds. I sent a swab to Hodges. He was also left handed."

Morgan's brow creased. "How can you tell that?"

"The wounds point toward the victim's center. You only see that with a lefty, when the location of the wounds is on a victim's left side."

"What about the other group of wounds?"

"He was right handed. The angle of penetration was also toward the victim's center." Doc nodded to David and the two turned Stewart onto her back. "I noticed some bruising on her torso when I came in today."

Sara glanced behind her to the drawers. "The cold brought them to the surface?"

Doc nodded. "Yeah. That tells me that the bruises were perimortem. She was held under the arms and punched a few times on her face and stomach. She also has bruises near the shoulders on her arms."

Morgan nodded. "She was held up by the perps as they stabbed her."

Sara pointed to the victim's hands. "What about her fingertips? Would those injuries be consistent with a straight razor?"

Doc shook his head. "No, those injuries are more consistent with a serrated blade. There're signs of slight tearing if you look at them under the magnifier." In the background, Danny laughed. "Something the matter?"

Danny shook his head. "No, it's just you remind me of the M.E. back home. You probably know him too. Sid Hammerback?"

Doc nodded. "Yes, we've met. Is he still working?"

Danny nodded. "Retiring soon though. We'll miss him."

"Tell him I said hi."

"Will do. Sorry for interrupting."

Sara turned back to Doc. "Anything else we should know?"

Doc shook his head. "I don't have more just yet. I'll take sub dermal photos of her bruises and send them up to you as soon as I have them."

"Any chance for prints?" Morgan grinned hopefully.

"No, I'm assuming she was clothed where they held her. Maybe you'll have better luck with that."

The group of four got into the elevator and went back up to the lab. Fowler had seemed like a master of the poker face yesterday, but today he was a bit upset. Maybe that had to do with the argument with Doc, but Sara was getting some majorly hostile vibes from him. They exited the elevator and Fowler grabbed the back of her chair.

Sara turned her head to look at him. "Please let go ."

Fowler let go. "I have some questions for you."

Sara turned her chair to see him better. "Go ahead."

"What makes you think you belong here now that you can't do anything without assistance?"

"Excuse me?"

Danny put a hand out. "Hey, man, maybe you should save your questions for when you're not still angry."

"Don't tell me when to ask questions. Tell me why you belong here."

Sara glanced to Morgan. "I've been a CSI with this lab for over ten years. Yes, I need a little assistance now, but this chair does most of that and the people in this lab have done everything they could to make sure I could stay. Why I belong here isn't even what you're supposed to be evaluating. You're here to see if I can still follow regulations."

Fowler smirked. "You can't. Regulations were designed for people who can walk; people who can use their legs. You can't, so you can't follow regulation. This is a waste of my time. I know how you got paralyzed. You walked right into a trap set for you and paid the price. No one was there to watch your back. They didn't care about you then, and they don't care now. You shouldn't have come back."

Sara's breathing had become rapid as she had to almost literally bite her tongue from retorting. Fowler's words cut deep. Whoever said "sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me" had never truly been on the receiving end of words like this. Sara rolled away from Fowler to stop herself from saying something that would get her fired. Behind her, she could hear Morgan start to lay into him about his comments about how Sara's coworkers didn't care, until Danny told her to save it for later.

Fowler smirked when he noticed Sara had shown him her back. "That's right, run away!"

Danny found Sara in her office a few minutes later. "You shouldn't hide from him. He's just a big bully."

"I didn't want to say something I'd regret. It's not like any of you understand what this is like. Having to change just about everything in your life to make it easier to deal with not being able to walk or climb up a ladder or just go up a flight of stairs. You don't get it."

"Actually, I do."

Sara scoffed. "I seriously doubt that."

"I've been in your shoes. Literally. This was almost six years back. I was with my coworkers at a bar when a drive-by shooter opened fire on the place. One of the bullets struck me in the back, glanced off my spine. I was in a wheelchair for close to seven months."

"And now you can walk. How?"

"My injury wasn't permanent. I had a lot of inflammation and there was some damage to my vertebra, but the spinal cord was mostly unharmed in the long run. It took a lot of effort." He smiled. "I wasn't very pleasant to be around during that time. When I finally got out of that damn chair, it still took almost a year for the inflammation to go down all the way and for everything to go back to normal. I still have moments when I can't feel my toes, but for the most part I'm fine."

Sara looked down. "You were lucky."

"I was. How about you? Any chance of walking again?"

She shook her head. "No, my injury is permanent. The bullet transected my spine between T12 and L1. I'm told I'm lucky that only my legs were affected."

"But you don't feel lucky. Yeah, my doctor was the same. He said, 'you're lucky that your spine was only grazed by the bullet.' Let me tell ya, I didn't feel lucky. Then he told me I had a ten percent chance of walking again. I was so angry about the whole thing. I blamed the world, hated the way people looked at me. I realize now that the looks I thought I was getting were in my head." He paused. "You seem much more adjusted right now. How long have you been in the chair?"

"It's been about eight months. I've been back in the lab for two."

"How'd you make the adjustment so well?"

"I think it had a lot to do with the rehab center I was at, especially this one group therapist. She noticed during one session that I was in my own little world. Greg had come to visit and he said I'd be back on my feet in no time. I didn't react well, but during group I couldn't stop thinking about that. I'd decided to call him and apologize by the end of the meeting."

Danny had taken a seat. "She stopped you from calling?"

"No, she actually told me that I wasn't the only person affected by this. Everyone I cared about and shared my life with was affected. They were having to try and adjust their way of thinking to what I could and couldn't do, just like I was. She told me that I needed to cut the people around me some slack for unconscious insults and accept help when it was offered." Sara shrugged. "I don't know. It stuck with me and I've been trying to keep that in mind ever since."

Danny nodded. "You had a better therapist than I did. Mine just kept telling me to get up and try again."

"My physical therapist was that way sometimes. She wanted to make sure I'd have the strength to be as independent as I possibly could."

Danny nodded. "I've seen the way they work here. Everyone acts like a family. Morgan was a firecracker when Fowler attacked you. You've got good people here. People that really do care."

"Family is one of the things Russell tries to push for. He's not a fan of secrets or arguments around here. That has helped."

"Well, just between you and me, you got this in the bag. Don't worry about Fowler, I'll take care of him. I hear there's a lot of desert to dump a body in." Danny laughed at his joke, then noticed Jo was standing in the doorway. "Looks like that's my cue to leave. Talk to you later, maybe."

"Sure."

Jo waited until Danny had left. "Finn says she's ready to show you her findings. Ready?"

Sara nodded. "Can't wait."

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><p><strong>AN: Fowler has a personal reason to be a jerk and we'll find out what that is soon. Leave a comment below!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank joann, was spratlurid quimby, phnxgrl, and mt6shock for their reviews. joann: probably not. I'm not really doing a shipping story, though if I did I would apparently be pairing Sara with Nick, Greg, Grissom, and Finn from all the requests. ****was spratlurid quimby: Danny did make the offer, but killing Fowler and burying him in the desert would be very illegal. I'll try to handle him in a legal way (burying him would probably be more fun). phnxgrl: Danny and Sara's conversation was fun to write. mt6shock: yes he is, as this chapter hopefully demonstrates.**

**This chapter starts where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 13<span>

Sara rolled into the garage to find Lance talking to Finn, so she turned her attention to the transformation. Finn had hung large sheets of white paper to simulate the wall, and wrapped a dumpster in the white paper so they could see castoff there too. Under a dummy was more paper. All the papers had blood spatter on them. Finn spotted Sara, Morgan, and Jo walk in and ended her conversation.

Morgan stopped just outside the papers. "This is what we couldn't see?"

Finn nodded. "I took ALS photos, then sprayed the alley with Luminal and photographed that too. The luminal photos showed my theory. The ALS showed a bit more." She waved her hands to the papers. "The killers didn't clean up after themselves right away."

Sara spotted the board with Finn's photos on it. "The ALS showed more detail. Lighter and darker patches depending on how much had soaked in to the underlying surface."

Finn nodded. "Exactly. Now, most of the detail was washed away, but there is enough here to know what happened. Morgan?"

Morgan moved onto the paper. "Yeah."

"I'll have you represent killer number two." Finn had Morgan stand in front of the dummy. "We know from the bruises Doc found that Stewart took a beating, probably to subdue her. Then one of the attackers took out a knife and stabbed her. From the blood spatter, they stood here." Finn stood in the corner between the dumpster and the wall.

Sara raised her hand, a smirk on her lips and laughter in her eyes. "Uh, no offense, but neither of you is tall enough."

Finn smiled too. "I had some help. Russell and Hodges are within the height ranges Doc gave me."

Morgan was holding the dummy. "Which one was first? The right-handed or left-handed attacker?"

"It's hard to tell, so I could be wrong about the order, but from how much blood the bricks absorbed, I'd say the right-handed attacker was first."

"Played by Hodges."

"Correct. He used the narrower blade, which is consistent with this." Finn held up a folding stiletto knife and hit the button to extend the blade. "Easy to conceal and popular with criminals. This one is a SKM thirteen inch, six of which is the blade."

Morgan peered around the dummy. "What about the other one?"

Finn set down the stiletto knife and traded places with Morgan who picked up the fixed blade. "The left-handed attacker, played by D.B., used a knife that was consistent with a hunting blade like this one. They also stood here." Finn directed Morgan to stand with her back to the wall. "This knife would have been harder to conceal as it needs a sheath to be safely carried."

Sara rolled her chair closer to Finn's demonstration. "Yeah, but, easy to conceal or not, P.D. confiscates over a hundred a year between the styles. Usually whenever they arrest gangbangers."

Morgan set down the knife she held. "So, are we looking for gangbangers?"

Sara shook her head. "Not necessarily. Organized crime sees their fair share during arrests they make as well."

Jo stepped forward. "I took a look at that ID you found. It is a forgery. The victim's name may not be Karen Stewart."

Danny walked in. "That's a safe bet. Lindsey finally got back to me. There are 52 Karen Stewarts in New York, but according to the DMV database, none of them looks like the victim. She ran the license number as well, but came up empty."

Sara turned back to her colleagues. "Our victim just became a Jane Doe."

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><p>Morgan and Sara found themselves alone in the AV lab reassembling the victim's fingerprints. "Where are your observers?"

Sara shrugged, glad to have some time away from their watchful eyes. "I don't know, but I don't mind it. What happened with Fowler?"

Morgan groaned. "When he said we didn't care about you, I lost it. I mean, how dare he? He doesn't know us. He has no idea what we feel for each other."

Sara smiled. "I know."

Morgan nodded. "Danny stopped me; told me to redirect my anger into doing something useful."

Sara nodded. "I get the feeling Fowler's animosity toward me is from something else."

"I agree. That's why I'm digging into his past. If we can find the trigger, maybe we can get him removed from the review team."

Russell walked in. "How goes the print reconstruction?"

Sara finished the last of her prints. "All done. Let's run them."

Morgan hit the start button to run the prints. After a couple minutes, a box popped up on the screen. "Restricted access? What does that mean?"

Russell pulled out his phone. "That means our case just got more complicated."

Henry walked in before Russell could make his call. "Uh, sir. I've got a weird result."

"What is it?"

"I ran the DNA swabs Sara collected from the victim and a box popped up on my screen."

Russell pointed to the A/V screens. "Kind of like that one?"

Henry turned to look at it. "Exactly like that one."

Russell nodded and put his phone to his ear. "Yeah. We may be looking at an undercover Fed."

* * *

><p>Russell had been in a meeting in his office for a while. Ecklie and two Feds from the Las Vegas field office were in there too. Until things were figured out as to who had jurisdiction, the case had ground to a halt. Sara ate her lunch at her desk while filling out paperwork and getting started on her report.<p>

Morgan and Finn walked in, closing the door behind them. "We figured out why Fowler is mad at you."

"What'd you find?"

Morgan's face glowed with excitement. "We discovered that what happened to you happened to his older brother."

"So?"

"So, the Nebraska crime lab wouldn't let him come back to work." Finn handed Sara a copy of the newspaper articles. "They forced Fowler's brother to retire."

Morgan nodded. "Both of them worked for the Nebraska crime lab at the time. They also sued the lab because of the brother's forced retirement, but the courts upheld the lab's decision."

Sara had skimmed the article. "This was over five years ago. Where's the brother now?"

Finn sighed. "Unfortunately, he committed suicide four years ago. That's on the second page. I think the idea of adjusting to life in a wheelchair was just too much for him."

Morgan nodded. "Fowler has been at the Iowa crime lab ever since his brother's death."

"New state, new start." Sara handed back the article. "So, what do we do with this?"

Finn pushed off the desk she'd been leaning against. "I think we present this to Russell, tell him Fowler has an unfair prejudice against you because of this, and argue for a new CSI to replace him on the review team."

Sara shook her head. "If we do that, then Danny would need to be removed too because he's been in my shoes."

"I disagree." Finn leaned against her desk again. "He's the bridge between you and the other observers because he understands what you're going through."

Morgan nodded in agreement. "We should at least show Russell what we found so he's aware of Fowler's actions."

Sara nodded. "That makes sense." The two FBI agents walked past the office. "It looks like Russell's out of his meeting."

Finn stood. "Let's go."

Finn opened the door while Sara used the structure over her desk to swing herself back into her wheelchair. Together, the girls headed to Russell's office. Up ahead, Ecklie exited the office, but stopped when Morgan signaled that he should stay. He looked a little confused by what they were doing.

Finn took the lead. "D.B., we have something to show you. It's about CSI Fowler."

Ecklie's expression went from confusion to a look of someone bracing themselves. "This have anything to do with Morgan yelling at him in the halls?"

Morgan turned to her father. "He'd just attacked Sara and suggested we didn't care about her. I was defending her."

Sara held a hand out to the young blonde. "Morgan, it's okay."

Morgan looked apologetic. "Sorry dad."

He nodded. "I get it. Show us what you got."

Finn handed Russell the articles she'd shown Sara earlier. "Fowler is being rude to Sara because he sees her getting the chance his brother didn't. Almost six years ago, Fowler's brother was shot and paralyzed while processing a crime scene, just like Sara."

Morgan stepped in. "Unlike Sara, the department in Nebraska forced him to retire. The brothers sued, but the courts upheld the department's decision. Four years ago, the brother killed himself and Fowler ended up transferring to Iowa."

Finn nodded. "He's trying to punish Sara for what happened to his brother. That's an unfair and very bias prejudice against her. We think he needs to be replaced on the review team."

Ecklie shook his head. "Even if he doesn't agree with the rest of the group, as long as the majority feel Sara can follow regs, she'll be fine."

Finn shook her head. "Every statement from the review team is made public. As long as one member of this review team finds Sara unable, the defense will always latch onto that review, especially if it's as negative as his will be. Everyone needs to be objective. Fowler is most definitely not."

Ecklie had crossed his arms as he usually did. "Following that logic, Danny Messer and possibly Jo Danville would have to be removed as well. I heard he was paralyzed at one point and both are friendly with this lab."

Danny had been passing the office, but came to the doorway when he heard his name. "Someone say my name?"

Finn turned to Ecklie. "Ask him yourself."

"Ask me what?"

Ecklie sighed. "Do you think you can be objective considering your… past experience?"

Danny nodded. "I think my experience in a wheelchair gives me a unique perspective on the challenges that need to be overcome. If I need to recuse myself because of that experience, I will, but I think I have the most knowledge on how to follow regs while in a chair."

"What about Danville? Do you feel she can be objective despite knowing this team?"

"When Jo was in the FBI, she worked a case involving a Senator's daughter. She found out one of the crime lab techs had tried to cover up a mistake he'd made while processing DNA evidence. She turned him in, knowing it would most likely get the case tossed in the process, which it did. The perp walked. If I know Jo, the truth comes before work history every time."

Russell nodded. "What about Fowler? Do you think he could be objective if he knew we were aware of his past?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, I see his type all the time. Like white supremacists and religious fanatics, he's not going to budge on his opinion."

Ecklie nodded. "Okay. I'll present this evidence to the review board. Let them handle the decision. In the meantime, Sara, just do everything you're doing. Don't let him get to you. That goes for everyone." Russell handed Ecklie the newspaper articles and the Sheriff left.

Danny nodded with a smile at the three women. Sara took it to mean "good job" as he turned and followed Ecklie out of the office. Morgan and Finn shared a fist bump before turning to Russell.

"So, what's happening with our case?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For those wondering, Russell is 6'2" and Hodges is 5'9". I hope to get the next chapter up in a couple days. I have decided to skip on adapting "Dead Rails" and "Angle of Attack" due to how little Sara is in the episodes. Next week's episode will (hopefully) be fun to work on though. Drop me a line below. Where do you think this case is headed?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: First off, I need to apologize for the long time between posts. Not only did the holidays get crazy, but I got sick on top of it and had almost no time or energy to write. I am feeling better now and should be back to writing and posting semi regularly. Secondly, I'd like to thank ponyliu, was spratlurid quimby, and phnxgrl for their reviews. Happy holidays to everyone and thanks for reading and commenting.**

**This chapter opens when the previous chapter ends. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 14<span>

Russell held up the case folder. "I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Bad news."

"All right. The bad news is that we can't touch the driver's license case at all. The Feds say their close to making an arrest in the case and they don't any interference from us to jeopardize the raid."

Finn showed her disappointment with a slump in her posture. "What's the good news?"

"We keep the homicide." Russell handed the folder to Morgan. "The FBI released her information. Our victim's name is Karen Sheppard, though if we make an arrest, they want us to use Karen Stewart when we talk to the suspect, just in case. FBI said they'll take care of the notifications."

Morgan had opened the file. "So, if we're not allowed to pursue the fake IDs, how are we going to solve this?"

"We have the evidence from the crime scene. That should give us something."

Russell nodded at Sara's remarks. "Nick and Greg just wrapped their case, so have them help you. I have a little more bad news."

Finn had been looking at the folder in Morgan's hands, but looked up at Russell when he mentioned bad news. "What?"

"There is a strong possibility that the Feds will be taking custody of the suspects when we catch them."

Morgan closed the folder. "We'll still be able to prosecute them for her murder, right?"

Russell shook his head. "It's doubtful that the State of Nevada will see that case. The Feds will tack that charge onto the list I'm sure they have. Let's… lets' not worry about who tries the case. The important thing here is to find and catch the guys responsible for this."

Sara rolled her chair back in preparation to leave. "Who's observing me now?"

"Andrews and Fowler. Make sure you guys play nice. If the review board doesn't pull Fowler, I don't want him to have any legitimate excuse for marking Sara down."

Finn looked playfully innocent. "What are you talking about? We're angels."

"Right, and I'm the Easter Bunny." Russell sat down. "Get the bad guys."

The girls walked out of Russell's office, and Finn doled out assignments. "I'm thinking Nick and Greg tackle surveillance cameras in the area of the crime scene to look for any visuals of our killers. I'll go through what the Feds brought; see if there's a lead there. You guys okay to take Henry and Hodges?"

Sara raised her hand. "I've got Hodges."

Morgan looked down at the brunette. "Why do you have Hodges?"

Sara tried to sound innocent. "I think he said he liked Fowler." Though her tone was fairly clear, her face gave her away her real intentions. She just wanted to have a little fun with the Master of All Things Trace.

* * *

><p>Sara rolled into Trace with her observers in tow. "Hey, Hodges. Got your text; what do you have for me?"<p>

He turned around and stopped short when he saw Fowler. "Ah, you brought your friends with you."

_Nice recovery_. "Hodges."

"Right. Diatoms in the water sample you collected match residue Finn collected from the wall."

"No surprises there."

"There was also something else in the residue Finn collected: I'm running it now." Hodges held up a new page. "The blue trace that Doc found in the victim's wounds turned out to be ink. Specifically the kind used for printing passports and driver's licenses."

"Which means at least one of the killers in most likely involved with the fake IDs. Anything that might tell us where to find him?"

Hodges gestured to his microscope. "Well, I don't know about the killer, but I can tell you where she's been. Take a look."

Sara rolled into position behind the microscope, stood up, and took a look. "It looks like dirt. What'd you find in it?"

"I'm glad you asked. This sample was lodged in the treads of the sole of her shoes and contained high concentrations of copper sulfides and lime. In Nevada, the closest source is found near Ely at the Robinson Mine where they are primary interested in the extraction of copper." Hodges handed her the results page.

"We should check it out."

Fowler had been behaving and quiet until now, but it was too good to be true. "And how exactly will you check out a mine? That chair is not designed for dirt and uneven surfaces."

Hodges, like Morgan, was not one to let his friends get attacked. "Hey, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Hodges, its fine." Sara turned back to Fowler. "If I change out the wheels, I can travel over less forgiving terrain."

Fowler sneered. "That's a lot of equipment to have sitting around for you to…"

The printer whirred to life and Hodges interrupted Fowler with a louder than usual voice. "Ah, I hear results printing." He grabbed the page and came back to Sara. "The other trace from Finn's swab is petroleum, hydrocarbons, polyalphaolefins, and polyinternal olefins."

"Motor oil."

"Old motor oil. This particular formula was discontinued in 1997."

Sara took the page from Hodges. "This might help us figure out where the forgers are set up. Thanks Hodges."

"My pleasure."

Ecklie walked in. "CSI Fowler, a word please?"

Sara's heart leapt with hope. Could the review board have come back with their decision so soon? Was Fowler about to be told to pack his bags, someone else was about to take his place? Sara rotated the handles on her chair backwards to be seated once again. She was quietly hoping he was about to be replaced.

Andrews followed her out of Trace toward the layout room. "I heard he attacked you earlier tonight. Does the Sheriff's need to speak with Fowler have to do with that?"

Sara nodded. "Something like that." She went down the left side of the table and up her ramp. The rest of the team filtered in over the next few minutes, as did the rest of the review team. Noticeably absent was Fowler.

Danny was looking around the room. "Where's the bad attitude?"

Sara cleared her throat. "Ecklie asked to speak to him. That's all I know."

Finn started when Russell joined them. "Okay, so I can tell you that the Feds have been collecting evidence on this group for over a year. Our victim's real name is Karen Sheppard and she was undercover in the group working mostly as a courier. Her last check-in was a week ago, but she should have checked in again two days before she was killed. That tells me her cover was most likely blown and her beating may have been a part of an interrogation before her murder."

Sara went next. "Water residue matches the source at the spigot. The hose also left traces of motor oil on the wall. The motor oil was old; the formula was last used in 1997." She slide the results into the table.

Finn took a look. "Interesting."

Sara nodded. "Combine that with the dirt trace from her shoes and we're looking for something like an abandoned auto repair place near the Robinson Mine. I just looked it up," Sara was using the internet on her phone, "the Robinson Mine is near Ruth, almost seven miles from Ely."

Nick was looking at Sara's second trace report. "There're a lot of abandoned places out that way."

"Well, it would need to be big enough to conceal a printing operation. Trace in the wounds was ink, the kind used in passports and driver's licenses."

Finn set the motor oil page down. "Everything is coming back to the fake IDs."

Morgan set her folder down. "Well, I can't help ID anyone. Henry did find two distinct DNA samples, but there're no hits in CODIS. I also ran the fingerprints I found on her purse, but the only prints that didn't belong to her were unknown. I can tell you that we are looking for two white males." She slid the folder to the center of the table.

Finn picked it up. "What about the straight razor?"

Morgan shook her head. "The blood on the straight razor was unrelated. It matched a case that Days is working. I've turned it over to them."

Nick opened his laptop. "I might be able to help with an ID. There was a camera in the parking lot where you found the vic. Only one car enters the lot around the time of death. Now, as you can see," he played the video so they could see the car driving in, "the angle is less than ideal, so you can't make out who's driving, who's in the car, or where it goes, but you can see the plates. Car is registered to Aaron Boyd."

Greg held up Boyd's DMV photo and pinned it to the board behind him. "No criminal record, a couple parking tickets, but that's it. From DMV records, we know he's 6'1". That would make him the taller suspect."

Russell nodded. "So what you're telling me is we have a person of interest who may be connected to the FBI's fake ID investigation. The Feds have made it clear that we can't arrest them for Sheppard's murder because it might tip off the organization."

"What if we wanted to talk to him as a possible witness?" Eyes turned to Nick. "We know his car was there. We could bring him in under the guise of asking if he saw anything."

"I'll have to run it by the Feds, but that not a bad idea. We have his address?"

Greg handed a paper to Russell. "It's right here."

"Great." Russell looked up. "How can I help you, Conrad?"

Ecklie was standing in the doorway. "I wanted to let you know that CSI Fowler in no longer on the team reviewing Sara. This is CSI Chang from the LA crime lab. She'll be filling in."

A young woman poked her head in the door and waved. Morgan was standing to Sara's left. "She must be new; I never met her when I was in LA."

Sara returned the whisper. "She looks nice. Hopefully she's fair too."

Russell walked to the doorway and shook her hand. "Welcome. Sara's the one sitting at the back wall. You'll meet everyone else soon enough."

"Thanks so much. I'm just glad I was close enough to fill in on short notice."

Russell turned to Ecklie. "We need to meet with the Feds again. We have a person of interest I'd like to speak to."

"And we need to know if that's okay." Ecklie stepped out of the doorway. "Let's give them a call."

While Sheriff Ecklie and the Lab Supervisor went to talk to the FBI, Sara went to introduce herself to the new review member. "Hi, I'm Sara Sidle."

"Tammy Chang. Sheriff Ecklie only said I was to observe you before we came in. I'm not sure why exactly."

"Well, as you can see I'm in a wheelchair. This is a fairly recent change in my life, so I'm being observed to see if it interferes with my ability to follow regulations."

Chang nodded. "That makes sense."

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you get here so fast?"

"I was already here on vacation."

Sara grimaced. "Sorry to interrupt."

Chang shook her head. "Don't be. I was heading home today anyway. Now, I don't have to."

Danville put a hand on Chang's shoulder. "You're a bit behind on the review. I'll walk you through the evidence collection and our notes if you'd like."

"That'd be great."

Danville extended her hand. "Jo Danville, New York. Danny Messer over there works with me." Danny heard his name and waved.

Chang waved back. "Tammy Chang, L.A."

Morgan had finally broken away from the group in Layout. "Morgan Brody, Sheriff Ecklie's daughter. I used to work in L.A. Is Phil Grosman still there?"

Chang's eyes lit up. "Yes! Do you remember what he puts on his tuna sandwiches?"

Morgan shuddered. "Don't remind me…"

Morgan, Chang, and Danville walked down the hall together. Morgan and Chang were chatting amiably as they compared their times in the city of angels. Across the lab, Sara saw Russell poke his head out of his office and gesture to her. She should probably figure out what he needed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: The next chapter is mostly written and just needs to be typed. Should be up in a couple days. In the meantime, leave a comment below with what you think will happen on the case. Thanks!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank joann for her review. I am feeling much better now, thank you. This chapter starts up where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 15<span>

Sara rolled into Russell's office and he held a finger to his lips, still talking. "I understand that you don't want us to compromise your investigation, but we have a person of interest we'd like to talk to. We're not going to bring him in as a P.O.I., we'll say he might be a witness and we'd like to talk to him. Can you help us out a little?"

The phone was on speaker. "_Mr. Russell, this is not up for debate. Once we've found where they're set up again, we'll see. Until then, not a chance_."

Sara waved her hands to get Russell's attention. He noticed and nodded. "Hold on a second." Russell put the phone on hold. "What do you have?"

"The fact that they don't know where the forgers are set up seems a little strange to me. I mean, they had Sheppard undercover with the group. You'd think that the location of their setup would be something she would tell the FBI about. Ask them about that."

The Sheriff turned around to look at Sara. "Where are you going with this?"

"We might be able to help them locate the hideout. The evidence says an abandoned auto repair shop near Robinson Mines. If the Feds let us talk to him, there's a chance that Aaron Boyd will be rattled and end up leading the Feds right to the setup."

Ecklie nodded. "It's not a bad idea."

"I'll pitch it to them." Russell took the phone off hold. "I've got a question for you. How do you not know where they're set up? You had an agent undercover with them."

"_We did have a location, and when Karen didn't check-in, we raided it. They'd already moved. We're guessing they moved as soon as they'd figured out she was FBI_."

"And you want to know where they are so you can make the arrests."

"_Of course, why do you ask?_"

Russell glanced at the people in the office. "Our lab may have narrowed down the location for you. Evidence suggests that they are using an abandoned auto repair shop near Ruth. Now, I know that's not much to go on, but what if you had Aaron Boyd lead you right to them?"

The line was silent for a moment. "_Hold on_." The line went dead as they were put on hold.

Russell looked up. "Think it'll work?"

Ecklie shrugged. "The Feds have a few more resources than we do. No doubt they'll be coming up with a backup plan if they do go for it. They don't want to lose this group again."

The FBI came back on the phone. "_You've got yourself a deal. We're sending a couple agents over to set up a backup plan. Don't bring Boyd in until after they've arrive_."

Russell nodded. "You've got it. Thank you Agent Cruz." He hung up. "We should get over there."

Ecklie nodded. "I'll let you handle the questions. I'll probably start treating him like the perp he is."

Sara followed the men out of Russell's office. "I'd like to see this through."

Russell looked back over his shoulder at Sara. "I'll drive."

* * *

><p>Danville and Chang had come with Russell and Sara to PD. While they waited for the FBI to arrive, Chang talked with Sara, asking about the wheelchair and kit basket as well as the changes the lab had made to be ADA compliant. Sara answered honestly and showed Chang what her chair and basket could do. Like the other CSIs, Chang listened intently and observed what was possible for a CSI who relied on a wheelchair for mobility.<p>

The FBI agents finally arrived and spoke with Russell and Ecklie briefly. Then they came over to the group and introductions were made. "I'm Agent Riley Peters, this is Agent William Sorenson."

Danville smiled at Sorenson. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Will."

Sorenson nodded tersely, no smile on his face. "Danville."

Sara glanced between the two. "You two know each other?"

Danville nodded. "When I was at the FBI, we used to work together."

Sorenson turned to Russell. "I'm not comfortable with her working on this case."

Danville shook her head. "Still bitter after all these years? You know as well as I do that the lab mistake wasn't made by me."

"No, but you did tell the prosecution about it."

"As was my obligation. If you had been in my position, you would have had the same responsibility."

Sorenson stood his ground. "You helped a rapist walk."

"Are you telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing?" Sorenson was silent at Jo's words. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not working this case, I'm with the New York crime lab now."

"Why are you here then?"

"That's not really any of your concern."

Russell moved in to break up the dispute. "Okay, okay, guys, let's… let's not fight right now. We're trying to catch a killer here. Why Jo is in Las Vegas is not important right now."

Ecklie walked over to the group. "I've dispatched a car to bring Boyd in. What's the plan here?"

Peters led the way into an open interrogation room. "We have a warrant to bug his phone, so if he makes a call after you speak to him, we'll be able to hear what he's saying. We're also setting up undercover cars along the route so we can tail him without tipping him off."

"Staggered entry and exits?" Danville was getting right into the FBI lingo.

Peters nodded. "Plus head tails in passing zones. We'll do what we can not to lose him."

Ecklie nodded. "What about the arrest?"

"LVPD can join in, but Boyd will be taken into Federal custody if there's anything relating to the fake IDs discovered at the scene or in the call."

Ecklie pointed to a spot on the map Peters had spread out. "You can use this spot as a staging area. My CSI's get calls out to that spot whenever the locals are short-handed. We can put a fake body dump on the scanners to cover up the real reason."

Peters nodded. "Get the locals on board. That would be very helpful."

Sara leaned forward. "How are we going to separate Boyd from his phone to plant the bug?"

"You have a small tub handy? I was thinking all cell phones get collected when you come in here."

Ecklie shook his head. "We've never done that before and if he knows that, he'll refuse."

"Call it a trial program then. Who knows, you might start doing it." Peters started folding up the map.

Russell turned to Ecklie. "You should get the locals on board with the staging area. I'll handle the prep here. You two," he was looking at the FBI, "should be out of sight when Boyd gets here. If he sees the FBI, game's over."

Peters grabbed her case. "Do you have somewhere for us?"

Ecklie had his phone to his ear. "You can use my office. It's out of sight of the interrogation rooms. Yes, Sheriff Watts, this is Sheriff Ecklie with the LVPD. I have a favor to ask…" He left the room.

Russell held the door. "I'll take you there."

The next half hour was spent setting up and handing out assignments. Danville and Chang had been sent back to the lab so they could meet with the review team and start working on their decision. Officers Akers and Mitchell had been recruited to help with the phone bugging, as had Sara. Mitchell was to be the lookout, letting Russell know when Sara brought back the phone. Akers would collect the phones and stand outside the interrogation room with them so Boyd would think the phone wasn't going anywhere. Sara was the courier between Akers and the FBI agents. Russell would be questioning Boyd, which also meant he had to keep him distracted till the phone came back. It would be a tight schedule.

* * *

><p>Russell waited by reception for Boyd to arrive. In the hall, Sara and Crawford were going over a folder for a case that had already been tried, just to put Sara in a position to see Boyd arrive and enter the interrogation room. Officers Akers and Mitchell were in the hallway as well, the phone collection tray in Akers' hand.<p>

Aaron Boyd walked in with his uniformed escort. He looked a little nervous, but not full on suspicious. Russell walked forward and shook his hand before leading him toward the interrogation room. At the door, Akers held out the tray. Mitchell put his phone in the tray, as did Russell.

Boyd stopped. "What's this?"

"We're trying a new program. Phones go in the tray before we go in there."

"Why?"

"It's a security thing. The phones don't go anywhere. Officer Akers will stay right out here. You'll be able to see him the whole time."

Boyd reached into his pocket and took out his phone, setting it in the tray. "Fine."

Officer Mitchell opened the door. "After you."

Boyd walked in the room, followed by Mitchell, with Russell bringing up the rear. As soon as the door closed, Akers took Boyd's phone out of the tray and Sara rolled down the hall toward him. As she passed him, Akers dropped the phone on Sara's lap and she kept going. Inside the interrogation room, Russell sat down to talk to Boyd. Mitchell stood by the wall behind Boyd so he could see when Sara returned.

Russell set the folder in his hands down. "So, Aaron Boyd. Can I get you anything? Coffee, soda?"

"No, thanks."

"Okay. I want you to know, first off, that you're not in trouble. We think you might be a witness to a crime."

Boyd's eyes became innocent wide and he pursed his lips. "I don't think so."

Russell smiled. "I think you might be. You just don't realize it yet. Let me check some facts and we'll see. Do you recall where you were between three and six pm two nights ago?"

Boyd shrugged. "I was out running errands. I don't remember where I was when."

"And your vehicle," Russell checked the folder, "is a Toyota Camry, correct?"

"What does my car have to do with anything?"

Russell pulled a still from the video Nick had found out of the folder. "Well, there was a murder. We're still looking for where it was committed, but the body of a young woman was found in an alley here."

Boyd looked at the photo. "That's my car. You think I was involved?"

"No, no, I think you may have seen something. Was there anyone else in the area at the time?"

Boyd shook his head. "No. Well, there was someone, but I think they were homeless. I didn't see another car."

Russell sat up. "Could you describe them?"

"No, sorry. They were wearing a hood. I didn't see a face. Who was the victim?"

"She's a Jane Doe." Behind Boyd, Mitchell nodded, which meant Sara had returned the phone. "The ID we found nearby was a fake. We're trying to recover her fingerprints right now so we can get an ID."

Boyd glanced at Akers back. "Is there anything else or can I go?"

Russell gathered up the photo. "No, nothing else. Thank you for coming in. I'm sorry for bringing you down here like that."

Boyd stood up and hurried to the door. He quickly grabbed his phone and speed walked to the door. Nick was coming in the front door with Sam as Boyd walked out. He shook his head at Russell to indicate that Sam hadn't found the victim's scent on Boyd's car. Either Sheppard hadn't been in the car, or Boyd had the car detailed after her death.

Sara rolled over to Russell. "I almost didn't make the handoff without forcing Akers to move. Boyd suspect anything?"

"No, but when I mentioned Sheppard's ID was a fake, he couldn't wait to get to his phone."

"Yeah, I noticed he was in a hurry."

Russell turned to go to Ecklie's office. "Let's hear what Boyd is saying."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sheriff Watts is the real Sheriff for the White Pine County police department in charge of Ruth, which is in White Pine County, Nevada. I believe the next chapter should wrap this one up. Thanks for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. I think Ecklie's gone with both Clark County Sheriff and LVPD on the show, so if I got a little confused, it was an honest mistake. Thanks for the correction. This chapter starts where the last one left off. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 16<span>

Boyd was already on the phone talking to someone when Russell and Sara came into Ecklie's office. "…_gotta grab the truck and pack everything up. Change states. I know Vegas was good to us for a while, but finding out Karen was a Fed bitch ruined everything_."

The other guy on the phone had a deep voice. "_You're freaking out for no reason. They aren't close at all_."

Boyd was pissed. "_You don't get it, man! They know the ID we left behind with her body is a fake. And right now their putting her fingerprints back together so they can get an ID. My car was caught on camera near where we killed her! They know I'm involved. It's only a matter of time before they find out she was a Fed. I knew we should have burned her fingers or something._"

"_What did they say?_"

"_They were talking to me like I might have been a witness, but they know. Damn it, man, they know! We gotta get out of state_."

Deep voice sounded stressed now. "_Okay, okay. We'll pack things up here. Just get here. We'll torch your car and put everything in the trucks and run._"

"_Yeah, yeah. I'm already on my way. I thought they were tailing me for a bit, but the car turned a few streets back, so I think I'm good_."

"_Keep an eye out just in case. We don't want any surprises. And be careful when you get close. There was a body dump a couple miles from here. Someone from Vegas was dumped near Liberty Pit. Cops are everywhere_."

Boyd cursed under his breath. "_Maybe we wait to move until tonight. Pack everything into the trucks in the shop, but wait until after dark to leave. Fewer prying eyes then_."

"_Yeah, sounds good. See you when you get here_. _We'll discuss destinations then._"

The phone call came to an end and Agent Peters straightened up. "That puts him in Federal jurisdiction."

Russell nodded. "I just want to get him. I don't care who takes him away."

Sorenson was coordinating the cars. "We're trying to keep them a bit farther back, but so far we still have eyes on him."

Peters nodded. "Keep it that way."

The next few hours were spent listening to calls from the drivers who were tailing Boyd. In the city, Boyd had taken a couple random turns to check if he was being followed. The drivers had called to say they had been forced to break off surveillance to avoid detection. At least other drivers had been able to pick up the tail when Boyd passed by them later. Out on the highways, it was easier to stay on Boyd's tail without arousing suspicion because there weren't very many places to turn off, which meant everyone was taking the same route the suspect was.

A little more than four hours later, Boyd arrived at his destination and pulled off at an abandoned auto repair shop just shy of Ruth's city limits. The driver tailing him at that point called in the address and Peters called Agent Cruz at the staging area to announce that the setup's location had been positively identified. Within minutes, the FBI had raided the shop, taking Boyd and another man into custody, killing one of the forgers when he pulled a gun on them and opened fire.

Greg and Morgan were with the team of CSIs that moved in to process the counterfeiting operation after the building had been cleared. The evidence they collected was handed over to the FBI for processing. At this point, the Feds were in charge and nothing any of the local authorities could do was going to change that. True to his word though, Russell didn't care that the case had changed hands. This case had started with the FBI and he was just happy to help them solve it.

Russell drove Sara back to the lab to find the CSIs on the review team had taken over the break room for their meeting. Many of the lab rats and some of the CSIs were watching the team as though one of them might stand up and start writing their conversation on the windows so everyone would know what was going on. Russell had to shoo the onlookers back to their stations.

Finn put a hand on Sara's shoulder. "They've been in there for an hour already. It's been a pain. They confiscated all our reports and notes as well as the sketches and photos. I was hoping to start writing up my final reports so the FBI would be able to collect everything in one trip, but that's not going to happen."

Sara nodded. "So we can't really start working right now."

"Nope. I knocked and asked for a copy of my notes so I could get started, but no luck."

Sara noticed Russell was headed for the break room. "Maybe Russell can convince them."

Finn pulled out her phone. "Great idea." She started typing. "'Can't do our reports without our notes. Any chance you can get us copies?' There, now he knows."

Russell was in the break room talking with the members of the review team. Sara and Finn watched as Russell pulled out his phone to see Finn's text. He looked up at the pair out in the hallway and waved his phone to say he got it. It seemed to work because the reviewers started handing Russell stacks of the CSIs' notes. After a few more remarks back and forth between the reviewers and Russell, he emerged.

He brought the notes to Finn. "Make copies and give the copies back to the review team as quick as you can."

Finn nodded. "You got it." She handed Sara her notes. "You go ahead and get started. I'll make copies of these and then get yours."

Sara handed the stack back. "They're here to review me. Probably best to get my info back to them first."

"You have a point. Let's make copies."

* * *

><p>Sara was sitting in her shared office, after finishing her reports, waiting for Russell to call her into his office. The review team had been in there for a while and she was beginning to worry that they were actually saying she would have to give up working in the field if she wanted to remain a CSI with the LVPD. Which lab process could she see herself doing? Archie was the AV specialist, Hodges was Trace, Mandy was fingerprints, and Henry did DNA and Toxins. Maybe she could take over DNA. Henry would probably love not having to pull double duty anymore. Actually, Ballistics was open as well, and Henry was amazing at doing both DNA and Toxins. And Sara knew she wouldn't like spending all her time in DNA. So Ballistics then.<p>

Sara shook her head. She wasn't made to live in the lab with the other lab rats. She loved working in the field too much. If she was told she couldn't do that anymore, she wouldn't know what to do. Teach maybe, but even that wasn't appealing. She looked around the office. She had come to love this place. She'd spent eight years here before taking a break to find her center again and then return. Since her return, she'd been here for another five years. In those thirteen combined years, she'd developed friendships and changed so much. To have that come to an end because of her wheelchair would be devastating.

A text from Russell brought Sara out of her musings. The meeting with the review team had come to an end and her presence was being requested. Sara grabbed the bar over her head and swung her body into her wheelchair. She quickly moved her feet onto the footrest of the wheelchair and rolled out to the hallway.

Morgan fell into step with Sara. "Review time?"

Sara nodded. "I'm nervous. I don't want to leave the lab."

"You won't. Danny and Jo are going to say you're fine, and I'm pretty sure Chang will too."

Finn joined them. "I got the chance to talk to Lance and she sounds like she'll say yes as well. And from the way Andrews would watch you, I'd say you're going to be fine. Sara, you got this."

Sara was feeling a little better. The group stopped at the office door and both Morgan and Finn hugged Sara for good luck. Sara smiled; she was lucky to have friends like them. Nick and Greg were just down the hall with Hodges and all of them gave her a thumbs-up in encouragement. Greg had one of his trademarked, goofy grins on his face which made Sara want to laugh. Sara smiled at them and turned to face the office door. She took a deep breath and let it out before turning the handle and going inside.

Russell looked up. "Close the door behind you."

Sara closed the door and turned around. "I'm assuming you've come to a decision."

Danny stood up. "We have. Each of us is going to give you the bullet points of our reviews. I'll go first. From what I've seen, you've adjusted to this life altering injury with grace and a great attitude. You do what you can to follow regulations, but when you know there is something you can't do alone, you defer to one of your teammates and let them do what you can't. I think that, even though your abilities as a CSI have been affected, you are still a capable CSI and should not be penalized for that."

Danny sat and Jo stood. "Regulations are put in place to ensure that evidence is collected and processed correctly. They do not say that someone must have full use of all their limbs. You may not be able to walk, but what you can do falls well within regulations. Danny mentioned something I've noticed too. While there are limitations to what you can do physically, you are aware of them. You are always partnered with someone who can do what you can't, and you work well with your partners to process the scene by the book."

Andrews stood when Jo sat. "When I was still a cop, I had a partner who was injured the same way you were. He allowed his anger at the situation and depression over his limitations to destroy his life. You have not. You have risen above the challenges and proven to me just what someone with a physical disability could do in a job like this. I believe that your abilities to follow regulations have not been compromised."

Chang stood up and smiled. "I'm new to this team, so I couldn't observe you in action very much, so I approached this review in the more traditional angle. From my investigation, your procedure for gathering and processing evidence is all above board and follows regulations. If I was unaware of your disability, I would have assumed that the CSI under review was just as able bodied as most Crime Scene Investigators are." Chang's comments stung Sara but she kept her face composed as the young CSI sat down again. Sara knew that most of the words Chang used were more from an ignorance of how some handicapable people liked to speak about their circumstances.

Lance stood up. "Like my fellow reviewers, I too feel that your evidence collection processes follow regulations. Your chair allows you to move freely and stand, which means that there isn't much your fellow CSIs can do that you can't. My only concern is that the treads of your tires may cause cross contamination to the crime scene. I would suggest that you get something like booties for your tires to ensure that you don't run into the defense making that kind of a claim in the future. I'm not going to mention the wheel booties in my report, that's just a personal opinion."

Russell nodded to the CSIs. "Thank you for your time and thoughts. Sheriff?"

Ecklie had been standing quietly off to the side. "I would like a copy of your reports before you go. Thank you for coming and providing your services."

Russell turned to Sara. "From the looks of it, your job is safe. Anything you'd like to add?"

Sara shook her head, a lump in her throat making it hard to speak. Russell could read the smile on her face though and smiled as well. "From the smile, I think she means thank you."

Sara nodded and finally found her voice. "Yes, thank you. This job has been my life for many years now and I, uh, I don't know what I would have done if I'd been told I needed to retire. So thank you."

* * *

><p>When the shift ended that day, everyone gathered at Sara's for a little party. It wasn't a formal thing, just beers and snacks. Maybe they'd watch a movie together too as they celebrated a passing score on the review. Sara sat back in her chair and smiled as she watched her friends discuss the reviewers and compare notes on Fowler in particular. She couldn't get over the light hearted feeling of getting through something difficult and passing spectacularly. Katherine had phoned earlier to check in on the progress of the review and Sara had gotten to share the good news with her former colleague too. All in all, it had been a good day today.<p>

Nick brought Sara a beer and held his up. "I just want everyone here to know how happy I am that one of my good friends can stay with us. Sara, congrats on surviving that review, man."

Finn held her beer up to. "Hear, hear."

Sara grinned. "Thank you guys for supporting me through this process. Morgan and Hodges had to step up a bit more than necessary," everyone glanced at the two and laughed as they both blushed, "but thank you all the same. I couldn't have done that without you guys."

Morgan smiled. "The lab just wouldn't be the same without you."

Greg tipped his beer to his friend. "Cheers to that." Beers clinked together and everyone drank to the toast.

Sara smiled. "Who wants to pick the movie?"

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><p><strong>AN: ****This is the last chapter for Sara's review. Next chapter will be start of the adaptation for the episode "Dead Woods." Stay tuned!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Noodle the Albino Python, joann, ****was spratlurid quimby, and phnxgrl for their reviews. joann: I considered something like that, but couldn't find a way to fit it in realistically. This is the start of my adaptation of S15E12: "Dead Wood". Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 17<span>

Officer Akers arrived at the scene of the murder to find a young woman, in a outfit that didn't match the neighborhood at all, kneeling over the body of the victim. She was as still as a statue, face blank. It was almost like she was in a different world. Akers couldn't tell what was going through her mind, or why she was here, or how she was connected to the man. All he knew was that he needed to get her talking to find out.

He knelt next to the teenager. "Miss? Can you hear me?" His hand was on her shoulder and she was staring ahead of her, rocking back and forth a little. He tried again. "Miss?" She finally looked over and it looked like the trance was beginning to lift. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She stared at his badge and then looked up at his face. She gasped and hurried to her feet, staring at the dead man like she was seeing him for the first time. He mouth was still open in horror, her eyes still wide with fear.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

The girl turned to look at him again. "Sara Sidle." The girl turned back to look at the dead man and Akers was struggling to understand what was happening here. She looked back up at him, a panic in her voice. "I need to talk to Sara Sidle."

* * *

><p>When Sara had gotten the call, she'd been at PD filing the last bit of paperwork for a case. Finn was her ride back to the lab, but she was busy talking to Ecklie about their case. Sara found the nearest uniform she could and had him rush her down to the scene. Abby Fisher was a victim from a case she had worked ten years ago. They had stayed in touch ever since. Now Abby was at a crime scene where someone had been murdered, and had demanded to talk to her old CSI friend. Whatever it was, it had to be important. Officer Akers was waiting for Sara behind the police tape.<p>

Sara propelled herself forward. "What happened?"

Akers held up the tape so she could roll under it. "I don't know, she's not talking. You want me to call her folks?"

"She's in foster care."

Akers fell into step with her. "How do you know her?"

"Old case. When Abby was five, her father shot the whole family, then turned the gun on himself. She was the only survivor."

"God, that's horrible." Akers stopped in horror as they approached Abby. The girl was sitting on the hood of a squad car staring at her hands. Sara took off her sunglasses as Abby looked up and saw Sara approaching. She pushed off the car and stood, looking somewhere between guilty and in shock. Sara knew the teen wasn't surprised to see her in a wheelchair; that conversation and meeting had happened a while ago. No, this look was most likely because of what had happened.

Sara used her gloved hands to slow the chair as she approached. "Hey." She reached up and held the girl's arms. "Are you all right?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah."

"You're okay?"

She was still nodding. "Mm-hm."

Sara released Abby's arm and waved a hand over the scene. "So, what's going on here? You're hanging around the alphabets, standing over the body of a dead guy."

Abby shrugged. "He pulled a gun on us."

"'Us'? Slade?! You were down here with Slade?!" Sara hated that kid and was upset that Abby was still hanging out with him. "Abby, I told you that kid is bad news!"

"Sara, please, I…

Sara pointed at the dead guy, anger making her ignore Abby's protests. "Did he shoot this guy?"

Abby raised her voice to break through the red Sara saw every time Slade was brought up. "Listen to me!" Sara stopped yelling and looked Abby in the eyes. "I finally remember something. From ten years ago." Abby started shaking her head, subdued relief breaking through her shock. "My father didn't do it."

* * *

><p>Abby was pacing in Brass' old office at PD while Sara was on the phone with Abby's foster mother. "She's fine, we'll see you soon. Uh-huh. Okay, bye." Sara hung up and rolled into the office. "Joanna's on her way. As soon as you give your statement, you can go home."<p>

Abby looked incredulous. "But we need to talk about my father." Sara wasn't sure what there was to talk about and Abby must have seen it because her tightly crossed arms came apart and she raised her voice. "I told you, I think he's innocent."

"Abby, you always told me that you didn't remember anything about what happened that night."

"I didn't. But after Slade shot that guy, I smelled something. Uh, a chemical, kind of like kerosene but not. I smelled the exact same thing the night my family was killed."

"You mean, inside the tent?"

Abby's eyes went distant as she described the memory she'd had. "When I smelled it, it's like I was right back there. I'd just been shot. My head was bleeding. He picked me up. That's when I smelled it. When he was putting me into my sleeping bag."

"Your father."

"No! This man had a beard. It wasn't my father." Her eyes snapped back to Sara's. "I am telling you, someone else was there that night. He killed my family. Tried to kill me. My father didn't do it."

Sara turned her chair a little and moved to put a little distance between herself and Abby's barely hidden excitement. "Okay, all right, listen, I… I know you want to believe that your father is innocent, but the evidence…"

Abby was slowly growing hysterical that Sara wouldn't accept this newly recovered memory. "I know what I saw."

"Abby, you were five years old. You'd been shot, you saw your mother and your sister killed. That kind of trauma… can play tricks on your mind."

"I'm not making this up."

Sara shook her head. "Abby, I…"

Abby sighed in disbelief as an officer walked in. "I thought you of all people would believe me." She walked out, following the officer who was going to take her statement.

* * *

><p>Sara rolled into the waiting room with a coffee in her chair's cup holder to talk to Joanna while Abby was giving her statement. "Joanna." She stopped in front of the redhead and held the coffee out to her. "Cream and sugar."<p>

Joanna took the cup in both hands. "Thank you."

"Abby's just, uh, giving her statement."

Even though Joanna had seen Sara in her chair, there was a slightly uncomfortable nature to her interactions with the CSI now. "Uh, I'm really glad she reached out to you."

Sara tried to play off the discomfort as being with the situation and not the wheelchair. "She's fifteen. You're her mom. It's a complicated relationship."

Joanna shook her head. "I don't think she really thinks of me as her mother." She paused. "Ever since we started the adoption process, she's been acting out. Breaking curfew, skipping school…"

Sara shook her head, cutting off the list of things Abby was doing to defy her adoptive parents. "She loves you and Brian. She's been through so much, huh?" Joanna nodded. "Sometimes I'm amazed that she's done as well as she has."

"Well, I-I think that's because of you." Sara's smile faltered a little, uncomfortable at this show of emotion. "You two have a very special bond. I'm so glad you're a part of her life."

"Thank you. I am, too." Sara looked around Joanna when she saw movement through the glass behind her and spotted Slade being brought in. She rushed to excuse herself. "I'll be right back." She followed Akers, who was leading a handcuffed Slade to the interrogation room. "Hey, Slade!" His head turned when he heard his name. "What the hell is wrong with you, taking Abby to that part of town?"

Akers had turned Slade around so Sara could talk to him properly and Sara pushed Slade backwards into the wall behind him. Akers made sure to turn his head away quickly so he couldn't be asked what happened; after all, he didn't actually see anything. Slade wasn't paying attention to where the cop's eyes were directed and thought he was about to get an easy witness. Too bad the brotherhood of law enforcement was willing to back up their own.

"Yo, you see that?"

Akers frowned and shrugged. "I didn't see anything."

Sara had a hand on Slade's chest to keep him pinned to the wall. "She is not your girlfriend anymore. You come near her again, and my face is gonna be the last thing you will ever see." Sara had no intention of actually killing the kid, that would put her in a big mess to sort out, but she needed him to believe that, despite her chair, her threat was real. He seemed to get it too. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed in fear, his eyes a little wider and more nervous than before. Sara took her hand off his chest and turned her chair to head back up the hall.

Akers moved forward to reclaim his suspect. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Greg walked into the morgue while David was busy with the preliminary exam. "Hey. That the guy from the alley?" He pulled latex gloves on as David stood up.<p>

"Uh-huh." David clicked his pen and took some notes. Greg bent down and started sniffing the dead guy. "Greg?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?"

Greg straightened up. "Tell me what you smell."

David bent down to take a sniff. _This guy is ripe_. "Urine. Booze. And years without a shower." He straightened up. "Why?"

"I smell smoke. Like he's been around a fire."

"Yeah, well, he was probably trying to stay warm. Why are you so interested in how he smells?"

Greg looked at the dead guy. "It's not me, it's Sara. Uh, this guy was killed mugging a young girl. She smelled something on him that reminded her of a crime scene from ten years ago." Greg wasn't sure how reliable that memory would be, but was willing to at least confirm or refute the information before casting judgment.

David looked up. "Was the case unsolved?"

"Ruled a murder-suicide. Youngest daughter survived. Now she thinks her father might have been innocent." Greg shot David a look that said he didn't believe it.

David wasn't so quick to judge. "He's pretty ripe. It's gonna be hard to isolate one particular smell."

"Sounds like a job for the Cyranose 320." When David was done with his prelim, Greg got out the small machine and ran it over the dead guy's body to capture all the scents coming off of him. If anything was going to identify all the scents Abby might have smelled, it was this device. It identified benzene, ethanol, and uric acid as well as several others. Maybe this would help Sara.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Earlier in this chapter, I mentioned that Sara's hands were gloved when she spoke with Abby at the crime scene. Those gloves would be the kind used to protect your hands while using a manual wheelchair like the one Sara has in this story. Just FYI. Thanks for reading and drop a comment in the box below! Thanks! :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank Chocolate strawberries 123, phnxgrl, and mt6shock for their reviews. mt6shock: welcome back and glad you liked the last "episode". phnxgrl: adapting the confrontation with Slade was an interesting challenge. I'm glad you liked it. Chocolate strawberries 123: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. This chapter starts during the montage with Greg and the dead mugger. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 18<span>

While Greg analyzed the dead man with a Cyranose 320 to identify the smells he was wearing, Sara took over the layout room. She pinned the photos from the evidence box on the boards and spaced the various reports all over the table. It was time to look at the case with fresh eyes and use the information Abby might have remembered as a guide. Maybe in the haste to call the case a murder-suicide and close it up, there was something they had overlooked.

Sara stared at the first photo she had taken of the crime scene. She remembered walking that scene, photographing the father with his gun in the dirt next to him. She had taken photos of melted cups in the fireplace and the exterior of the tent before going inside to document the body of the mother, blood pools and spatter, and oldest daughter tucked in her sleeping bag. She also photographed the blood pool where Abby had been tucked in, unconscious but somehow miraculously alive. Sara's eyes then drifted to a picture of Abby with her head bandaged. The memory drifted to her mind's eye…

_Sara took a few pictures of the young girl in the hospital bed before walking around to the other side and sitting gently on her bed. The girl looked terrified, probably because she was still trying to wrap her five-year-old brain around what had happened. She also looked sad, and Sara recognized the feeling from when her father had been murdered by her mother. Abby was struggling to cope with the knowledge that, not only was her family gone, but her father might have been the one to kill them. It was going to be a difficult few months for her._

_"Abby, I'm gonna take a sample of your DNA." Sara popped the cap off a cotton swab and Abby's eyes darted to it. "Doesn't hurt. I'm just gonna put the swab against your cheek like this." Sara demonstrated on herself first so young Abby would know what to expect. She then closed up the swab and threw it away so she wouldn't confuse it with Abby's swab. The girl sat up and opened her mouth. "Here we go." She swabbed Abby's mouth. "Good job."_

_Abby lay down and stared at Sara for a while. "They're dead, aren't they?"_

_Sara nodded, unsure how to break this kind of news in a gentle way to someone so young. "I'm sorry." Abby had her eyes down, trying to be a big girl but wanting so badly to cry. "Abby," Sara sighed. She didn't want to ask her any questions and force the girl to relive those painful moments, but she had to ask. Abby was their only witness, "did you see what happened? Who hurt you and your family?"_

_Abby's face looked so pitiful. She was still somehow fighting tears. "I don't remember." Her face contorted, tears welling up in her sad eyes._

_Sara wasn't going to press, at least not very hard. "That's okay. What's the last thing that you do remember?"_

_Abby's lip was trembling. "Mommy and Daddy. They were fighting."_

_"Then what happened?"_

_"I don't remember."_

_Sara nodded. "That's okay."_

_"I want my mommy." Tears had started to fall._

_Sara's breath caught. She knew the feeling. "I know." Abby reached up and Sara leaned in to give her a hug, trying to replace for a moment, the arms this little girl craved so much. "Of course you do. It's okay." They stayed like that for a while. For some reason, Sara didn't want to let go._

But Greg was interrupting the memory and it was time to return to reality. "Sara? Hey, Sara," Sara turned her head to see Greg standing in the doorway, "got the, uh, results on your Cyranose 320." Sara turned her chair and stood up next to the layout table where she could see what she'd spread over the surface earlier. "Your mugger was a smelly guy. Over twenty different scents on him. Most of them were pretty common," Greg handed the folder to Sara, "alcohol, smoke, urine."

Sara didn't feel like reading through the list of all the smells that the Cyranose 320 had identified. "Abby said it was something that she hadn't smelled in ten years. Like kerosene, or something."

Greg quickly flipped through the list in his head. "Could have been gun cleaner," he pointed to the report, "we found traces of that on him."

"Huh. I didn't smell any of that at the scene ten years ago. Not on the gun, not on the father."

"Was there evidence of another gun used?"

Sara set the folder down. "No. Firearms confirmed that every shot came from the father's gun."

Greg shifted his weight as another theory came to him. "Well, someone could've brought the smell with him into the tent. Stinky stuff. I mean, it gets on your hands, your clothes…"

"So it's possible that someone who smelled like gun cleaner went into the tent, used the father's gun and wiped out the whole family. Abby… could be right. Maybe her father didn't do it."

Greg hesitated before presenting his thought. "I know that you're pretty tight with this girl. I know you've stayed in touch through all these years."

Sara started defending her actions, though she remained gentle to avoid hurting Greg's feelings. "She needed somebody to look after her."

"We've worked a lot of cases where kids lost their parents."

"Yeah… but one parent killing another, getting shipped off to foster care… That's something I know a little bit about."

Greg nodded. "In all the years we've been friends, we've never really talked about what happened with your dad." Greg seemed to be having a little trouble maintaining eye contact. "And I don't mean to pry, but…"

Sara interrupted. "You know what happened. They had a volatile relationship. And…" Sara's phone rang, interrupting her just as she started to share her story. It then buzzed to let her know a text had come in. She checked her phone and saw Russell wanted to see her. She flashed Greg a smile that told him the conversation would have to wait for later. "It's Russell." She sat the chair down and rolled past her friend to see what D.B. wanted.

* * *

><p>In typical Russell fashion, he didn't get straight to what he wanted to talk about. "According to my case sheet, you have twelve open cases. Is that right?"<p>

Sara nodded, not liking where this was going. "More or less."

"More or less. So then why are you ordering evidence from long-term storage for a case that was closed ten years ago?"

Sara jumped in, eager to defend her desire to pursue this case. "Uh, new evidence was brought to my attention and, uh, I wanted to give the case another look."

Russell was a master at sounding annoyed, but not looking anything other than relaxed. "Well, then, you should have come to me first."

Sara was feeling like a scolded child. She knew the proper procedure was to talk to Russell to get approval, but her initial reaction to Abby's alleged memory had made her hesitant to ask to reopen the case without checking what was in the files first. "I-I just wanted to see if what I was told had any merit."

Russell closed the folder. "All right. Where are you getting your new information?"

"Abby Fisher."

"The girl that survived?"

"She smelled gun cleaner and it brought back a memory of the night that her family was murdered. She thinks that there was someone else there."

Russell was as skeptical as Sara had been when Abby told her what she remembered. "Eyewitness account, especially years after the fact, are unreliable, and you know that."

"There's more." Sara was glad now that she'd looked at the files before Russell had found out. "Uh, I looked at her dad's tox report and there was a substantial amount of alcohol found in his system, but there were other peaks on the GC that were never analyzed."

D.B. had picked up the file again, but closed it when what he heard sounded like Sara was questioning Doc. "Doc ruled this a suicide. So you know what you're asking? By reopening this case, you're asking Doc to change the manner of death and I just don't see him doing that, not with what you've given me."

Sara wasn't backing down without a fight. "Russell, Abby has believed that her father was a murderer her entire life. If there's a chance that he wasn't, we owe it to her to find that out. This girl lost her whole family. She has no one to fight for her. Please, let me just take a look at it."

Russell must have pitied her pleading eyes, because he gave in. "All right, fine. Take a look at it." Sara started to turn her chair. "But wait, hold on. Look, look, this is going to ruffle a lot of feather. Not just Doc; Ecklie, too. So for my sake, you'd better be right."

Sara nodded. "I know."

* * *

><p>Russell had decided that he should be the one to talk to Doc about the Fisher case. As he had predicted, Doc had been unhappy with the implication that Sara was accusing him of not doing his job properly ten years ago. "Let me get this straight. Sara is accusing me of cutting corners on my examination of Mr. Fisher?"<p>

"No, Doc. In light of new information, Sara just wants to take a look at the case in a different context." It seemed like Russell's calm demeanor was having no effect on the medical examiner.

Doc grabbed the report off the desk. "All right. Mr. Fisher died from a contact gunshot wound to the right temple. There was gunshot residue on his right hand, his gun was found beside him, and he had a blood tox level of point two three. Tell me, please, what is it about this that doesn't indicate suicide?" He was still mad at the implication that he was incapable of doing his job.

Russell remained calm. "In the tox report, Sara found a peak from the GC that was never analyzed."

"Got that tox report right here." Doc shifted the papers so the chart was on top. "What peak are we talking about?"

Russell pointed to the one Sara had shown him. "That one."

Doc shrugged it off. "That's minor. It has the same retention time as ibuprofen. That's why it wasn't analyzed."

Russell nodded. "Could be, but you can't be sure unless you do a Mass Spec, so please, Doc, just pull the blood for me. Retest it."

Doc looked at Russell for a moment and then turned to the computer. "Sure." He typed in the sample information and hit enter. A beeping sound accompanied a box that popped up, indicating that the sample had been destroyed. "Sorry. You and Sara are out of luck. Those samples were destroyed three years ago." He could see the disappointment in Russell's face and sighed. "D.B., if you feel this strongly about it, the only choice is to exhume the body."

* * *

><p>Russell told Sara he had managed to talk Doc down. She was glad that Doc was accepting that her desire to reopen the case steamed from the discovery of new evidence and all they wanted to do was see if that evidence might help clarify the context of the previously discovered evidence. Russell also informed her that, unfortunately, the blood sample that had been tested originally was destroyed as of three years ago. To get a new sample, they needed Mr. Fisher's body, which meant they needed the family's permission to exhume it.<p>

The only family still alive was Abby. "You're digging up my father?"

Sara had been chosen to explain it to Abby because of their close relationship. "Well, we need to do some additional testing."

"Then what happens to him?"

"He'll be re-buried."

Abby got a little hopeful. "Like a second funeral?"

"Well, there won't be a service or anything. He'll just be returned to his grave."

Abby nodded, disappointment clouding her features again. "I didn't get to go to his funeral. Or Mom's. Or Hannah's."

Sara sipped her coffee and set the mug down again. "You were still in the hospital."

Abby looked at Sara. "Did you?" Sara wasn't sure what Abby was referring to and remained silent, waiting for her to clarify her question. "Go to your father's funeral?"

Sara shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

Regret and sorrow colored her voice as Sara shook her head again. "I wasn't allowed."

Abby nodded with understanding. "Do you miss him?"

"Yeah. I do." The two friends sat in silence, each knowing what the other felt because they had both gone through it.

* * *

><p>Nick stood across from Doc looking down at the remains of Barry Fisher. "Guy looks pretty good for being in the ground for ten years."<p>

"Miracle of embalming."

"Mm-hmm. So are you gonna do a full autopsy?"

Doc bristled a little at the question. "It's not necessary. Barry Fisher died from a gunshot wound to the head, and nothing is going to change that fact." Doc got to work opening up the chest cavity on Fisher so he could get to the organs.

"Well, something caused that peak on the GC. If he was under the influence of some type of drug, then maybe his death wasn't a suicide."

"If that's the case, I will change my ruling to 'undetermined.'" He pulled out the breastbone and set it aside. He then pulled the opening of the plastic bag the organs were in out of the Y incision and reached for a new tool open it.

"Well, good thing he was autopsied. Kept the organs in a plastic bag."

Doc spread the bag open. "I'm just glad the mortuary kept them in the bag after they embalmed him. Organs weren't exposed to formaldehyde." He pulled the liver out of the bag. "Best bet for identifying acute dose of a drug is the liver or the kidney."

Doc set the liver on a tray and sliced off a small section to give to Nick for him to take to the lab and have Hodges test it. They needed to know what that mystery peak was to know whether or not this case was going to move forward at all. If the peak was something as common as ibuprofen, the case would go no farther. If it wasn't… that was a different story. Nick took the sample dish from Doc and thanked him. Time for Hodges to do his magic.

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><p><strong>AN: I was hoping to maybe get started on the next episode, but it didn't air here. Maybe next week...**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. This chapter starts right were the last one left off in the episode. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 19<span>

When Sara got the results of Doc's reexamination of Barry Fisher, she headed straight for Russell in his office. It was time this case got the look it should have gotten ten years ago. "Barry Fisher was drugged. Tox found trichloroethanol in his liver sample."

Russell took the file Sara offered him. "A metabolite of chloral hydrate, right?"

"That's what the peak was. It wasn't ibuprofen. It was a knockout drug."

Russell examined the document. "Doc changed the manner of death from 'suicide' to 'undetermined.' You were right." Sara smiled at Russell's admission before he moved on and took a seat. "Okay. Where are we?"

Sara moved her chair so she was now in front of Russell's desk. "Well… chloral hydrate is not a recreational drug. Fisher wouldn't have taken it voluntarily."

"So someone drugged him."

Sara nodded and continued her report. "Doc didn't find any injection marks on Fisher's body, but there were remnants of paper cups in the fire pit. The drug could've been put into his drink."

Russell was a bit perplexed. "Why would somebody incapacitate the husband if they were already planning on shooting him?"

"Maybe to get the gun? I mean, if the plan was to murder the family and frame the father, the killer would have had to use his gun. Fisher would not have handed it over willingly."

Sara's theory made sense, which made this crime all the more heinous. "Boy, somebody sure hated the Fishers. Kill the whole family? Those two little girls?"

The thought was sobering. "I'll see if they had any enemies. So…" Sara was hoping that with all this theory building and reporting, the case was now going to be reopened, "do I have the okay to… officially reopen the case?"

Russell smiled. "You bet."

Sara smiled too. "When Doc ruled it a suicide, I boxed up all the evidence because there wasn't going to be a trial. So… almost everything that I collected has never been processed."

"All right. Have the boxes sent to the garage. Finn and Morgan will set up the tent and work the evidence." Russell looked Sara in the eye. "You have a close personal relationship with Abby Fisher. I need you to take a backseat."

Sara nodded. "Fair enough."

* * *

><p>Morgan had been busy setting up the tent so that when Finn came into the garage, she would have no previous knowledge about where the blood was. Finn had texted to check on the progress a while ago, but Morgan had still been placing the items in their correct positions at the time. The Blood Whisperer must have gotten anxious to look at the scene because she was now heading for the garage and Morgan hadn't finished setting up the markers indicating which blood patterns belonged to each of the victims.<p>

At least Finn let Morgan know she was coming before she had arrived. "Hey, Morgan. You all set up?" Finn was keeping her eyes averted from the interior of the tent. She wanted the first time she looked at everything to be with fresh, unbiased eyes."

"Yep," Morgan called out to her friend. "I used Sara's original crime scene photos as a guide."

Finn lined herself up in front of the tent opening and walked straight inside. Morgan glanced at her with an expression that said "brace yourself." Once inside, Finn could see why. Blood had spattered all over the interior of the tent. Pools of it marked where everyone had fallen or laid for some time. Finn could imagine what had happened here and knew she would not have wanted to be one of the kids inside.

"Ah, those poor kids. Had no idea that their fun camping trip would end like this."

"Yeah. I, uh, placed note cards reflecting the DNA results. 'M' is for Mom, 'H' for Hannah, 'A' for Abby."

Finn looked at the sketch of the crime scene Sara had created. "All right. And according to Sara's sketch, the two girls were inside their sleeping bags over here… Hannah, Abby… and then over here, the mom."

Morgan stood. "Yeah, the nine-year-old, Hannah, had Mom's blood on her feet, so we know Mom was killed first, right over there." She pulled an "H" from the stack of note cards in her hands. "This, here, is Hannah's blood trail." She placed "H" markers next to the trail of gravitational blood drops leading from the blood pool formed from Hannah's initial injury to her sleeping bag where she'd been found.

"Hannah's wound was immediately debilitating and fatal. So she would not have been able to walk back to her bed." In her mind's eye, Finn saw a faceless figure pick up the body of Hannah and walk her to the sleeping bag. "So somebody carried her and then tucked her in."

Morgan set another note card on the ground next to another blood pool. "Well, the killer thought Abby was dead, too, 'cause he tucked her in." She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb in the direction of Abby's sleeping bag, then thought about why the killer would even bother tucking the two girls in. "Shows remorse?"

Finn had an alternate theory. "Or he wanted to make it look like it was the father. Somebody who cared about his kids."

"Yeah. Either way, looks like the killer had to touch the sleeping bags, so it could be a good source of prints. Just like the tent flap."

Finn set the sketch down on the camp table in the middle of the tent. "I'm going to swab every blood drop in here. Maybe we'll get lucky and the killer left some of himself behind."

Working together, the two swept every inch of the tent for prints and DNA. After Finn was done swabbing a sleeping bag, Morgan would take it and set it up in the fuming chamber to hopefully get some good prints. Finn was true to her word and made sure that swabs went over every drop of blood in the tent. Morgan in the meantime found an almost complete handprint on one of the bags which included a beautiful, full fingerprint. She ran it through the system and got a match.

* * *

><p>Morgan found Sara in the layout room examining documents from the original investigation on the table. "I got prints. Some on the tent flap. Those were unidentified. But I also found one on Hannah's sleeping bag. That one paid off." She handed the folder to Sara. "Garth Fogel. He's a registered sex offender."<p>

Sara read off the rap sheet. "Convicted of molesting a little girl back in '95."

Morgan nodded. "He was released from prison in 2004, one month before the Fishers were murdered."

Sara was looking at the picture. "He has a beard. The man the Abby remembered tucking her into her sleeping bag had a beard."

"And smelled of gun cleaner. When Fogel was arrested, police found over fifteen guns in his place."

Henry walked in. "Hey. I analyzed the blood samples Finn collected from the tent. Everything belonged to Mom and the two girls. Except for one that turned out to be animal blood."

Sara shook her head, looking for more information. "'Animal blood'?"

"I'm still testing to figure out what kind of animal it came from."

"There was no other DNA in the tent?"

Henry shrugged with his hand. "Sorry." He glanced at Morgan and remembered the other strange result he'd gotten. "But when I tested Garth Fogel's samples against the DNA samples, I got a big surprise." Sara shook her head again, still not knowing where Henry was going with this. He understood this time and explained without further prompting. "He was the biological father of the nine-year-old daughter Hannah."

Sara looked at Morgan and remembered something she'd found out years ago. "Wait, I-I knew that Barry Fisher wasn't Hannah's birth father." She was shuffling through her notes to find the information. "According to a family friend, Kathy Fisher told everyone that Hannah's father died in a car accident before she was even born."

Morgan pulled a face that said she completely agreed with Kathy. "If I were pregnant with a sex offender's baby, I'd probably lie about it, too."

Sara had a new theory. "Maybe that lie caught up with her. Got the family killed."

* * *

><p>Nick walked into the interrogation room with a scowl on his face. "Garth Fogel?" Fogel didn't make a sound. "I'm CSI Nick Stokes." Nick sat down.<p>

"I asked for a coffee twenty minutes ago."

"Answer some of my questions, and I'll see what I can do for you."

Fogel shrugged, trying to look innocent. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You mean recently or ten years ago?" Nick placed a photo of the Fisher family in front of the man. "Do you recognize this family?" Fogel pushed the photo back towards Nick with barely a glance at it. "I'll take that as a no. Um… how about now?" He placed a photo of Kathy Fisher, dead on her sleeping bag in front of him. Fogel tried not to show a reaction, so Nick put down some more photos. "Oh, well, these are good. How about these?" Fogel lost his unconcerned façade and started moving around uncomfortably. "The Fishers went on a camping trip and someone slaughtered them in their tent."

Fogel gathered up the pictures, taped them into a stack, and put them in a pile in front of Nick. "Wasn't me."

"The girls were five and nine. They're really cute, really innocent. That's just the way you like them, isn't it?"

For the first time, Fogel really reacted, almost throwing himself at Nick in anger. "That's sick, you son of a bitch! She was my daughter!"

Nick wasn't impressed by his show of anger. "Sit your ass down!" Fogel sat down, but he was still breathing hard and clearly very angry. "I don't think the fact that she was your daughter would even stop a pervert like you. You probably even thought you had a right to her. You were out of prison a month and you got that itch again. Didn't ya? I think you followed the Fishers to their campsite. Drugged the dad to get him out of the way, and took his gun. Went into the tent to grab Hannah but Kathy wasn't gonna let you take her daughter without a fight. You certainly weren't going back to prison so you got rid of the witnesses. And there must be some shred of humanity left in you because after you shot both girls, you felt bad about it. Tucked them into their sleeping bags. Then you finished off the dad, and made it look like a murder/suicide. Sound about right?"

"That's a load of crap. I was nowhere near that family."

"Then how do you explain your fingerprint on Hannah's sleeping bag?" Nick placed the enlarged photo of the print on the sleeping bag in front of Fogel. He sat up, surprise in his posture as he looked at Nick. "You'd better start talking to me, man."

Fogel nodded. "All right. I saw them at their house. They were packing to go camping."

"What were you doing there?"

"I wanted to see my daughter. Kathy never told me that she was pregnant. I found out in prison. So I looked them up as soon as I got out."

Nick could fill in the story from here. "But Kathy wasn't gonna let you anywhere near Hannah so you followed them to the campsite."

"No! I went to their house. Kathy was packing the car and I told her that Hannah has every right to know who her real father is. And that is me!" Fogel was getting angry again, but he tried to rein it in. "Kathy told me to go to hell."

"That piss you off?"

Fogel lost control. "Yes, it pissed me off!" He took a breath. "I lost my temper, all right? I grabbed the sleeping bag and I ripped it out of the car and that is how my fingerprints got on it. Kathy threatened to call the cops, so I got the hell, out of there. I never saw them after that."

* * *

><p>Greg found Sara in the hall of the lab. "Nick thinks Fogel's lying."<p>

"Does he have an alibi?"

Greg sounded like he didn't believe it. "Said he was with his mom."

"Great. Let's talk to her."

"She died five years ago."

Sara came to a stop and turned to face Greg. "What?!"

"Nick is getting a warrant to pull his old cell and credit card records. See if we can at least place him near Mount Charleston around the time of the murders."

Sara tapped the palm of her left hand with the side of her right. "Abby picked Fogel out of that mug book. Thought he looked familiar, she couldn't say for sure whether he's the guy that killed her family or not. There's so much she doesn't remember from the night."

Greg looked like he had a thought. "There might be a way we can help her recover those memories."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Stay tuned for more soon. Thanks!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and joann for their reviews. Is anyone else wishing football season was over so we could actually watch CSI? I'm not saying I don't like football, I just wish it wouldn't interfere with the scheduled programing. Anyway, this chapter starts with bringing Abby to Mount Charleston for a walkthrough. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 20<span>

The fieldtrip to Mount Charleston had to wait until the next day. Greg would need time to set the replica tent up and position all the replica items within it in the exact locations they'd been at the crime scene ten years ago. A uniform drove Sara and Abby up, helped Sara get out of the car, and then went back to the driver's seat to stay out of the way. Sara had her all-terrain wheels on her chair, so navigating the rough landscape wasn't an issue. As she came around the back of the car, she could see Greg was standing by the outdoor picnic table, pictures in his hand and a camera bag in front of him. Abby was looking around at the scene with the same nervousness Sara had seen in other victims before they walked a crime scene. Greg nodded a hello and went back to the photos.

Sara stopped next to Abby. "You okay?"

Abby nodded, silent for a moment, and then turned to Sara. "Yeah." She turned back to look at the campsite again. "Just weird… being back."

Sara shook her head, knowing that trying to resurrect Abby's memories this way might help, but unsure what the cost might be. "Abby, you do not have to do this."

Abby looked Sara in the eyes, determined to see this through. "I want to." They started forward together. "So… how do we do this?" She suddenly looked a little playful. "You gonna hypnotize me or something?"

They both laughed. "No. We're just hoping that being back here might jog your memory. You know, the sights, the smells? Let your mind drift back." Abby shot Sara a skeptical look. "It's worth a shot."

Abby nodded and then started to walk slowly through the scene. She was careful, making sure to look at everything. The sounds of the woods hadn't changed in all those years and the sights were no different. If Abby wasn't fifteen, Sara would be tempted to think that the ten years since they'd last been here hadn't passed at all. Greg moved from the table so he wouldn't be in the teen's line of sight and came to stand next to Sara. In his hands was the video camera.

Sara shook her head in amazement. "You did a great job. It looks exactly like it did ten years ago."

Greg smiled. "Thanks. I even put gun cleaner inside the tent to see if it helps." He held up the camera. "And I brought this. We might need to document it for court."

"Good plan."

Greg turned the camera on and started recording Abby as she walked through the campsite. She stopped by the fire pit as though she was remembering something, then turned a full circle and walked a few more feet before stopping again. Her eyes moved to different areas of the camp and her face was pained. Sara could tell that the exercise was working; the girl was remembering things. Abby gasped slightly as the memory she'd been seeing changed to another. She walked to the tent flap and paused, her chest heaving a little as the terror of that night came back to her.

Abby opened the tent flap and paused again before ducking to go inside. Greg and Sara followed. Greg entered the tent after the teen and Sara followed, locking her brakes and sliding out of the wheelchair, leaving it outside. Abby had stopped a couple feet inside the tent, looking around. Her expression became a little wistful, as though a happy memory was on her mind. After a moment though, her eyes flashed to the sleeping bag where her mom had been shot her face shocked and horrified. Greg was still documenting and Sara was trying to stay out of the way as best she could from her seat on the floor.

Abby's face was contorting and her breath was rushed. She was living the moments she'd been unable to recall for so long and the terror was just as real now as it had been then. Her eyes were fixed on the sleeping bag. She gasped, her eyes widening for a second, and then she headed quickly toward the place where her sleeping bag had been. Greg moved to a spot where he had a better angle and Sara started dragging her legs as she followed Abby. The teen stood partially hidden behind a partition and sank to her knees, putting her head where it would have been when she'd been five. Her features told the CSIs that she was in emotional anguish.

Sara was beginning to worry about what the teen was going through. She was about to call out her name when Abby gasped and jumped, her awareness returning to the tent in the present. Sara was sitting between Greg and Abby. He was still filming, shooting over Sara's shoulder. Abby had looked down at her hands, her face no longer in agony. After taking a few moments to collect her thoughts, she looked up, her eyes returning to the spot where Mom and Hannah had died, grief keeping her mind in the past a little.

Abby's voice was just as sad as her eyes. "Mom and Hannah. I saw them. They were dead."

Sarah kept her voice soft, trying to help Abby cope as much as she could. "I'm so sorry."

Greg's voice was also low, but Sara could detect a hint of him trying to keep the interview alive. "What else did you remember?"

Abby closed her eyes to concentrate. "The man, he…" her eyes opened, "he had a patch. On his jacket. It had antlers." She'd been looking at Sara, focused and determined, but there was a little uncertainty. "Like a deer?"

"Did you see his face?"

Abby looked distraught as she looked at Sara, shaking her head. "I couldn't make it out. He just shot them!"

Sara tried to comfort Abby. "It's okay." She reached over and grabbed her young friend's hands. "It's all right. You did great. Yeah. It's okay."

* * *

><p>Morgan was on the computer when Finn walked in. "Henry identified the animal blood we found in the Fishers' tent." She laid the folder on the table so Morgan could see the results too. "It's elk blood."<p>

"Oh, maybe that's what Abby saw on the killer's jacket. I mean, an elk kind of looks like a deer, just with bigger antlers."

"Okay, so we have a killer who smells like gun cleaner and has traces of elk blood on him. He's a hunter."

Morgan nodded. "And if he was wearing a jacket with a patch on it, maybe he belongs to a hunting club. There are a lot of them in Nevada."

"Any close to Mount Charleston?"

"Let's see." Morgan turned to her computer and typed in the search parameters. A gallery of pictures popped up. "This club's logo is a duck." She flipped through the logos until she reached the one for Legend Creek Hunting Club, which showed an elk was in front of trees and an orange sun with a lake at the bottom.

Finn pointed at it. "That one. That looks like an elk to me."

"'Legend Creek Hunting Club.'"

* * *

><p>Sarah and Morgan walked into the hunting club to see stuffed animals everywhere. Sara looked back at Morgan. "Dead animals. Awesome."<p>

Morgan sounded a bit creeped out. "God. That looks like they're just staring us right in the eye. So lifelike."

Sara took off her sunglasses as the man behind the counter looked up at them. "Thank you. Stuffed them myself. Right back there." He pointed at the back room and stood up, then pointed at another animal head on the wall. "That twelve-point buck? Three shots to take him down." Apparently he thought he was doing well at impressing the two ladies.

Sara, a long-time vegetarian, was not impressed. "He wanted to live."

The owner nodded, not getting what Sara really meant. "He's a beauty." He extended his hand to Morgan first. "Randy Pruitt. Club president. What can I do for you ladies?"

Morgan started introductions. "This is Sara Sidle, I'm Morgan Brody. We are with the Las Vegas crime lab." She showed her ID.

Pruitt looked confused. "Crime lab?"

Morgan pocketed her ID. "We need to take a look at all your membership records from 2004. Specifically the members who had tags to hunt elk."

Pruitt laughed. "Elk pressing charges these days?"

"We're investigating the murder of a family shot to death on Mount Charleston."

Pruitt looked at Sara, appalled. "We hunt animals, not human beings."

"Yeah, well, some people can't tell the difference."

"These people… are my friends."

Morgan wasn't moved by his plea. "I'm sorry. We're still gonna have to take a look at those records."

Pruitt became boisterously defensive, as most club owners did when being told to hand over records. "Well, our members have a right to privacy."

Sara took a warrant from the pocket hanging on the right side of her chair. "Yeah." She handed it to Pruitt. "Not anymore."

Pruitt read over the warrant and then walked to the file cabinet to get it out, his shoulders fallen slightly with defeat. He pulled out a binder, checked the spine, and then handed it to Sara. "2004."

Sara set the binder on her lap. "Thank you." The two women turned from the counter and Sara handed the binder to Morgan as they headed for the door. "Let's pull all the members that have beards and tags to hunt elk, and show the pictures to Abby."

Morgan had opened the binder and was looking at the list of names with their accompanying photos. "Let's hope she can identify our killer."

* * *

><p>In the squad room at PD, Sara showed Abby the six-packs she'd put together, with Morgan's help, of the photos for all the men who had beards and tags to hunt elk in 2004. Abby had been flipping through the pages for several minutes now. Several times she had paused on a face, but then flipped to the next page. Sara could tell that Abby was getting frustrated and anxious. The young girl wanted to make sure she got the ID right, but Sara didn't want her to ID the wrong man. It was much better not to make a positive ID, than to ID the wrong man in the first place.<p>

"Take your time, okay?"

Abby nodded and then flipped a couple more pages. She stared for several moments on the face in the upper right hand corner, eyes wide, before pointing to the picture. "That's him."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded again. "Positive."

Sara put her phone to her ear. "Yeah, we got an ID. Donald Wraith. Lives in Henderson."

* * *

><p>Nick had accompanied the officers who'd driven to Henderson to arrest Donald Wraith. When they arrived, his truck was sitting in the middle of the road with the engine on. Nick was confused because it was just idling there. The officers parked behind the truck and one grabbed a rifle from the trunk of his squad car. They prepped their guns and started heading for the truck. Nick took the driver's side with Officer Akers at his shoulder, ready to switch to covering the passenger's side if necessary. The cop with the rifle was in position to keep watch from the back so if Nick and Akers got ambushed, he would be in a position to end it.<p>

Nick could see Wraith's face in the side view mirror and raised his gun. "Donald Wraith! LVPD! Turn off the engine!"

"Out of the truck!" Akers pointed his weapon at the ground as he crossed behind the cop with the rifle.

Nick was staring Wraith down. "Get out." Akers was traveling down the passenger side. "I said get out!"

Nick swung out from the truck to point his gun directly at Wraith only to discover that there was a gunshot wound to his forehead. Wraith's lack of any response became clear. He was already dead and dead men can't respond to commands. Akers was looking in through the open passenger side window, eyes fixed on the bright red streaks of blood running down the man's face. Both Nick and Akers holstered their weapons and the rifle wielding cop stood down. Wraith wasn't a threat to anyone now.

Nick looked at Akers. "Looks like the hunter became the hunted."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: In police shows at least, a six-pack usually refers to a pages with six mug shots on them that are shown to witnesses in hopes of procuring an ID. Not sure if that terminology is used in the real world as well. Leave a comment below if you know the answer, I'd love to find out! :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl for her review. This chapter starts where the last one left off and will wrap up the episode. Thanks for reading and enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 21<span>

Nick was busy taking pictures of the crime scene when David arrived. The assistant coroner was looking around at the trees when Nick noticed him. "Hey, Super Dave. Sorry to drag you all the way out here, man."

It sounded like David was smiling. "You kidding me? Trees, good clean air. It's nice to be out in nature." David opened the driver's side door and set his kit down by his feet so he'd have better access to the victim.

Nick picked up a bullet casing. "Nine millimeter casing. The ammo's consistent with the victim's gun."

David was looking at the entry wound. "Powder burns indicate he was shot at close range."

Nick looked at Wraith's right hand. "Yeah, but he couldn't have shot himself. The gun would have fallen out of his hand."

David extracted the gun from the victim's hand. "Killer tried to make it look like a suicide."

Nick cocked his head in agreement and then photographed the gun in Phillip's hands. "Abby Fisher IDs Donald Wraith as the man who shot her family. We come out here to pick him up and find him murdered?"

"Maybe to keep him quiet?"

"Maybe. Sounds to me like someone else was involved in this massacre ten years ago."

* * *

><p>Russell walked into his office with Sara at his heels. "I thought Abby Fisher only remembers one man in the tent that night."<p>

"Doesn't mean that somebody else wasn't there. Garth Fogel."

"The pedophile?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, we haven't cleared him as a suspect. And so far I haven't been able to find a connection between Donald Wraith and the Fisher family."

"So, you're thinking Wraith's connection is with Fogel."

"Maybe they were friends. Fogel wanted his daughter. The Fishers weren't going to give her back without a fight. Maybe he brings Wraith for backup."

Russell nodded. "Go prove it."

Sara laughed as she left. Proving it might be harder than they'd like.

* * *

><p>Morgan walked into Trace to see Hodges writing on a small whiteboard. "Hey."<p>

Hodges didn't look up. "Hey."

"Nick said he found trace on Donald Wraith's gun. Were you able to identify it?"

Hodges put down the board. "Yeah, it was a type of resin. Traditionally, a hydrocarbon secretion from plants, resins were a prized possession in the ancient world. I'm sure you're familiar with frankincense and myrrh."

"Gifts for baby Jesus."

Hodges nodded. "You're a wise woman. But in this day and age, humans have been able to create synthetic resins that are much stronger and more versatile than their natural predecessors." Hodges handed Morgan the results report. "As in this case, we have a unique blend of methyl methacrylate, thixotropic and a polymerization catalyst."

Morgan had stopped paying attention to Hodges when he mentioned synthetic resins. "Aren't synthetic resins used a lot in construction?"

Hodges nodded. "Yes, but…"

Morgan interrupted. "Because Garth Fogel works as a laborer for a construction company. If we can prove he had access, then we…" Hodges had started smiling during Morgan's theory and then interrupted by holding up his hands while making it very obvious he wanted to speak. Morgan trailed off, confused by what Hodges was doing.

Hodges was quick to fill the silence with the explanation. "You didn't let me finish."

"Sorry."

"The chemical structure of this particular resin is only used in one industry. Taxidermy."

Clarity filled Morgan's eyes. "Taxidermy." They had the wrong man in mind.

"Does Garth Fogel have a penchant for stuffing woodland creatures?"

Morgan smiled. "No. But I know someone who does. Thank you."

Hodges cocked an eyebrow as Morgan left. He didn't know who she was referring to, but obviously his information just gave her what she needed to prove who was responsible for killing the Fisher family. It was Trace for the win today.

* * *

><p>Sara sat in the interrogation room with the suspect across the table from her. "You lied to me, Randy. You said you didn't hunt people. But you murdered Donald Wraith. And you murdered the Fisher family."<p>

Pruitt smiled and laughed, trying to use it as a way to convince her she was wrong. "No, No, I didn't."

"We found a clear cast resin on Donald Wraith's gun. It's the same resin that you purchased two weeks ago for your taxidermy." Sara placed a picture of Wraith's gun in his hand in front of Pruitt.

Pruitt looked at Sara and then the picture before looking up again. "Is-is that all you've got?"

Sara smirked. Of course that wasn't all she had. If it was, they wouldn't be having this conversation right now. "No, I have motive. You and Donald Wraith killed the Fishers ten years ago. Donald was about to be arrested, so you killed him so he wouldn't implicate you. But you had already implicated yourself." Sara put the fingerprint result in front of Pruitt. "We pulled your fingerprints off the file that you gave us at the hunting club and it was a match to prints from inside the tent that the family was slaughtered in." Pruitt was looking sick. "What happened, Randy?! Did you get tired of hunting elk? Did you want your prey to beg for mercy?"

He finally looked up. "It wasn't like that. We never planned on killing anyone."

"What was your plan?"

"Donald wanted to have some fun with the wife. Her and her husband came by the shop, asked directions." Pruitt told Sara about the encounter with the couple in the shop, how Donald had been eyeing the wife while he gave directions to the trailhead.

"You followed them back to the campsite?" Pruitt nodded and Sara moved on. "You had to get the husband out of the way. How did you drug him, exactly?"

"Saw him sitting alone at the fire. Pretended we were camping nearby. We… brought over some booze. When he wasn't looking, we slipped him a Mickey."

"You know, most people don't just walk around, carrying chloral hydrate on them, unless they've done this kind of thing before." Sara stared at Pruitt and the man became a little uncomfortable, knowing she knew what his admission just told her. "What happened after Fisher passed out?"

"I stood guard while Donald went in the tent."

"With Barry Fisher's gun."

Pruitt shook his head. "He was only gonna threaten her, keep her quiet."

"But she fought back."

"I heard a shot. Then two more. We didn't know they had children." Puitt looked away from Sara, emotion clogging her voice a little. "Donald said the girls saw his face, so he had to kill 'em." Sara looked away. "I took them back into their sleeping bags, while he went out to take care of the husband."

Sara nodded, then tsked and shook her head. "There's a problem with your story, Randy. The youngest daughter survived." Pruitt looked surprised and worried to know that Abby was alive. "And she identified Donald Wraith as the person that put her back into the sleeping bag. Not you. He's the one that felt bad. And I am willing to bet… that you are the one that pulled the trigger that night." Pruitt stared at her defiantly. "Either way, your hunting days are over."

Sara glanced up at the officer standing in the corner and he moved in to take Randy Pruitt to the holding cells. Pruitt was still staring at Sara in defiance, the fear and regret in his eyes when he told his story or heard Sara mention Abby had lived long gone now. The DA would have to figure out how to charge Pruitt for the Fishers' murders. The evidence proving that he was the one to pull the trigger that night was admittedly lacking, but there was no denying he had been in that tent. And it was clear that he had been the one to kill Donald Wraith. Sara settled back in her chair, satisfied that Abby was finally going to get justice for her family.

* * *

><p>Sara was glad when she got to tell the teen what had happened. "So… they didn't even know us?"<p>

Sara nodded. "They were just bad people. And you and your family were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Abby shook her head, anger chocking her up. "That's messed up."

Sara redirected the conversation. "Your father was innocent."

Abby's face scrunched up in grief. "All these years, I blamed him. Hated him. Thought he killed Mom and Hannah. Tried to kill me."

Sara put a hand on her shoulder. "You can let that all go now. Your dad was a good man. And he loved you very much." Joanna came around the corner and Sara waved.

Abby looked up at her adoptive mother with a slight smile on her face. "Hey, ready to go home?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah." She turned on the bench and hugged Sara. "Thank you."

Sara smiled. "Any time." The blond stood and went with Joanna until Sara called out. "Oh, One D's playing at the Hard Rock Saturday night. You in?"

Abby looked at Sara like she was out of her mind. "One Direction? Seriously?"

Sara smiled. "No, I'm just kidding. It's Lorde, I'll pick you up at seven."

Abby smiled and nodded. "Cool." Joanna smiled as well and the two left together.

* * *

><p>Sara's conversation with Greg happened just after Sara finished talking to Abby. He had known the general idea of what had happened to Sara's parents, but the details and circumstances had never been brought up before. Sara got to tell him exactly what had happened that night and what happened to her mother because of it. She also showed him the picture of her dad that she kept in her locker. He held it up, comparing Sara now with the picture of him then.<p>

"You look like your dad."

Sara smiled. "He used to read to me when I was a kid." Greg handed back the picture and Sara picked it up to look at as she spoke. "Charlotte's Web was my favorite. Must've read it a hundred times."

"That's a nice memory."

Sara looked at Greg. "I have a lot of nice memories of him. My mom, too. They were toxic when they were together, though."

Greg was hesitant. "Your mom said your dad was abusive? She killed him in self-defense?"

"That's what she said."

"You don't believe her?"

Sara shook her head, uncertain. "Look, I know my dad wasn't a saint, but my mom was an alcoholic who suffered from mental illness. I'm just not sure that things were as black and white as she made them out to be."

Greg thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Well, you did say they had a volatile relationship."

Sara shook her head. "Fact is… I'll never know what happened that night." Sara took a deep breath and sighed. "This is gonna sound horrible, but I'm kind of jealous of Abby." Greg looked confused and Sara explained what she meant. "She gets to rewrite her whole family history. Nothing will ever change what my mother did."

Greg sat up and leaned toward Sara. "Well, you can't change the past, but you always have the future. Your mom's still alive. It's not too late for you to start over."

Sara shook her head. "I don't know if I could."

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><p><strong>AN: And that's it for the adaptation of this episode. This story will probably be on hiatus until a new episode airs. I am working on an "episode" that will be like Sara's review (that means not cannon), but I won't be posting it until it is complete. Thanks for reading and stay tuned.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl, stlouiegal, and joann for their reviews. stlouiegal: Welcome to the story! I feel I should clarify something you mentioned in your review real quick. I said I wasn't sure when Grissom would appear in this story, and if he does show up, he will not be shipped with Sara. Sorry to all you GSR shippers out there. joann: I'm glad I finally have some material to work with now that two new episodes have come out with some actual Sara screen time. This chapter is the beginning of my adaptation of "Merchants of Menace". Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 22<span>

Morgan met Russell outside and walked with him into the Murderabilia venue to bring him up to speed. "Victim's name is Damon Harlow. He and his business partner there," she gesture to the partner, "started this interesting little swap meet attracting 'Murderabilia' buffs from across the region."

"Murderabilia."

"True crime collectibles: artwork, autographs, mementos, all from famous killers."

Russell was looking around at the displays. "Where'd they get all this crap?"

"Some of it comes from police property auctions; others are gifts from incarcerated killers. As long as the convicts aren't directly profiting," they ducked under the police tape around the crime scene, "it's legal to sell this stuff." As they approached the car, Morgan's face twisted in disgust.

Russell was looking at the poster boards advertising the car, turned crime scene. "Including the car belonging to Lucas Reem."

They stopped by the car. "With our fresh kill here, Damon Harlow." Morgan looked up at the boards. "You know, I remember that summer. I was twelve years old, my parents were still together, we were living in Vegas. That monster was killing a new girl every few weeks. I watched my mom triple-check the locks every night."

"Yeah, it was a… it was a big deal up north, too." Russell crossed behind Morgan to get a different angle on the crime scene. "Reem confessed to all ten murders, right? Yet he still lingered on death row for how long?"

Morgan looked up. "Twenty years. Finally got the needle a few months ago. And now these guys want to memorialize him. Keep his legacy alive."

"Yeah, it's a little disturbing." Russell turned to look at the crowd. "Roomful of people fixated on murder."

Morgan had turned too. "Maybe one of them more committed than the rest."

* * *

><p>While Russell set up to process and interview the witnesses, Morgan got started photographing the crime scene. She started with several close-ups of the body and then walked around the car to get pictures from all angles around it. Greg and David were on their way to help out. The assistant coroner arrived first and got right to work processing Harlow's body. He started by taking a few pictures of the body in the car and then stuck the thermometer in his abdomen to get the liver temp to estimate time of death.<p>

David pulled the thermometer from the victim's body. "Liver temp puts time of death about ten hours ago. So, midnight." He glanced at Harlow's torso. "We're looking at approximately… a dozen stab wounds."

Morgan nodded. "Cast-off and spatter indicates that he was killed in the car, not posed here after." She noticed a pattern on the driver's side window frame and bent to get a close-up of it. "Unusual blood pattern. Looks like something brushed through the spatter."

David glance uneasily at the crowd still gathered outside the tape. "Special breed of lookie-loos in this place."

Morgan was looking at them with something akin to bored irritation on her face. "Nah, they're just figuring out how much the fresh carnage increases the value of the car."

In the meantime, Russell was fingerprinting and questioning the victim's business partner, Alex Friel. "You think I'm dealing in blood money selling this stuff."

"I think the city of Milwaukee got it right when they took all of Jeffery Dahmer's possessions, shoved them into a landfill." Russell adjusted his gloves and handed Friel a wipe to get the ink off his fingers.

"Nothing like this has ever happened. Damon and I put on these events a few times a year."

"So when was the last time you had contact with Damon?"

"Yesterday." Friel started wiping his fingers to clean them off. "He called to say he wanted to get the car ready. He didn't show up this morning, didn't answer my calls."

Russell shook his head slightly in confusion. "And yet you went right ahead with the auction?"

Friel rushed to defend himself. "Damon was troubled, okay? Drinking, depression. Either could take hold of him for a few days. This car is a huge sale. I had buyers here from all over."

"I understand." Russell picked up the ten card. "Got to give them what they came for, right? Let me ask you one more thing. Did Damon have any enemies you knew of?"

"He had a temper. Got into it sometimes with customers, other dealers, but it never got violent. Look, these collectors are good people."

"Well, you'll forgive me if I don't take my reading from your moral compass."

Now that Harlow's body had been removed from the car, Morgan was taking some pictures of the interior. She spotted some voids in the dust that were roughly the shape of fingertips and took a few pictures of that. Greg had finally arrived and he ducked under the tape with his eyes on the car.

"Fifty grand for a car? You'd think they'd at least wipe the dust off."

"These collectors want it exactly as Lucas Reem left it. Although he didn't leave those fresh fingerprints there on the dashboard, so I'm gonna run them."

David's camera started beeping at him. "Memory card's full. I got to get another camera."

David walked away and Morgan showed Greg the pictures she had taken so far. Soon after David crossed the tape, two of the lookie-loos hurried forward and ducked under the tape.

The redhead was more eager than his friend. "Hurry up dude." They rushed to the gurney. Greg and Morgan looked up in shock.

"Hey, hey, hey!"

Mitch saw them too and rushed over to stop them as Greg ran around the car to shove them away from the body. They were both to late to stop the pair from doing anything though; the boys had already snapped a selfie with the body. Morgan had stayed with her kit to run the prints she'd photographed.

Greg had to keep shoving them because the boys didn't want to budge. "Get out of here."

Mitch finally was able to move the pair away from the gurney. "Give me your IDs. Come on." The boys reluctantly handed their licenses over. "I'll run them."

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Greg was irritated that these two would be brazen enough to possibly contaminate the crime scene or body.

The redhead seemed to be the spokesman for them. "Wanted to take a look. Maybe get a selfie." He held up his phone with a grin.

The taller one glanced to the body, smiling in his excitement. "We've just never seen a real vic before."

"Yeah, well, I've seen plenty, and there's nothing fun about it."

The redhead jerked his thumb in Mitch's direction. "What's that cop doing with our licenses exactly?"

"He's checking to see if you're criminals. Or just idiots. I mean, Lucas Reem?" Greg noticed the redhead was wearing a Nate Haskell shirt. "Nate Haskell? How would you feel if it was your loved ones they attacked?"

Mitch handed the IDs to Greg. "No records, but I'll cuff them."

Both boys looked from Greg to Mitch in fear, the reality of what they'd done hitting them for the first time. Greg looked at them and decided to cut them some slack. "Why don't we give them a break, Mitch. As long as you guys promise to find more respectable hobbies. Got to be something cooler to do in…" he looked at the address on their licenses, "'Dead Owl Creek'?"

The taller one shook his head slowly no before they took back their licenses. Mitch went with Greg's suggestion. "Get out of here."

Morgan had gotten a result while Mitch and Greg were dealing with the two knuckleheads. "Greg. Come take a look at this." Greg walked around the car and looked at what she'd found. "The prints from the dashboard come back to a casino worker named Nora Waters." Morgan pointed to one of the boards near the car. "Her sister was one of Lucas Reem's victims back in '95."

"So, what do we think? Nora came here? To the place where her sister's killer is being celebrated?"

Morgan set down her laptop. "Maybe to put an end to this whole circus."

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><p>Nora Waters was in I2 waiting to be interviewed. Sara looked at her through the door to see a woman who had seen something traumatic at a young age. Sara knew those eyes; the vacant stare. She had seen them on other victims. Abby had those eyes sometimes. Sara opened the door and rolled inside. Nora barely glanced in her direction before returning her gaze to a spot in the middle of the air.<p>

"My name is Sara Sidle and I'll be asking you some questions if that's okay." There was no answer from Nora. "Okay, uh, do you know about the Murderabilia convention in town right now? They are auctioning off the car that Lucas Reem drove. Have you been anywhere near there?" Still no answer. "Your fingerprints say that you were in that car." There was finally a small reaction as Sara placed the page with the fingerprint results on the table in front of her. "Nora, we need to know what you were doing there."

Nora's eyes looked at Sara's for a moment, but then she blinked and returned her gaze to the middle distance. Sara was getting nowhere going at her like this. Nora was stone walling Sara because that was the easy way to go here. The brunette needed another strategy. Maybe she should make this a bit more personal.

"All right, um…" Sara glanced away from Nora and softened her tone. "Look, I know about your family's history with Lucas Reem."

Nora looked up. "Our history? You mean how Lucas Reem butchered my sister?" She was angry, a slow simmer that gave a dangerous color to her voice whenever the pain of her past surfaced again.

Sara knew that pain personally. "Sorry to bring you back there."

"Seven years old, seeing that. Home alone with your big sister when that man slips in through the window, comes creeping down the hall." Nora's eyes were back to the middle distance, but this time she was remembering the moments when her sister was murdered. "Rachel helped me hide in the closet. Lucas Reem had no idea I was there. Inches away while he… hurt her."

Sara shook her head. "That's something that no one should have to go through. I can only imagine how angry you must have felt about Reem's car being auctioned off."

"You think that I killed Damon?"

"Damon? Wait, you knew the victim?" Sara was taken by surprise at this.

"Knew him? I loved him."

Sara was really confused now. "I don't understand."

"Damon and I were dating for the past year. I heard about him online, what he did for a living. 'Murderabilia.' I sent him this awful e-mail, telling him he should be ashamed of himself, if not locked up." Nora had sounded disgusted through the rant, but she paused and her tone softened. "And then he took me to coffee. And he told me everything that he'd studied about Lucas Reem and other serials. The history, the psychology. Damon was a student, exploring the darkest parts of humanity. Selling off some artifacts helped him support his studies."

Sara paused to regroup. "When exactly were you in the car at the convention site?"

"Yesterday morning. Damon was getting the car ready. I sat in it with him, feeling its strange energy. And I felt safe. Because Damon was with me."

After everything Nora had told her, Sara didn't think she was the murderer. They still needed to get her alibi though. "I have to ask. Where were you last night at midnight?"

Nora's simmering anger returned at the implied accusation. "In bed. I couldn't sleep. The same as it's been for the last twenty years."

* * *

><p>Russell heard arguing coming from the direction of the police waiting room and headed there to find out what was going on. An older gentleman was pleading with the officer on duty. "Please, I just want someone to tell me what this is all about. Her name is Nora Waters. And she was told to come down here. I want to know what's happening."<p>

"Excuse me. Can I help you?"

The man turned to Russell. "Yes, my daughter, Nora, was told to come…"

Russell interrupted. "I-I understand. Understand. Um, your daughter's in, talking to a colleague of mine. I-I'm D.B. Russell." The supervisor extended his hand.

The gentleman took it. "Bruce Waters. Can you tell me what this is all about?"

"Your daughter's fingerprints were found at the scene of a homicide."

Mr. Waters looked very confused. "What?"

"The victim's name was a Damon Harlow. Did you know Mr. Harlow?"

Waters took a deep breath in and looked down when he let it out. "Yes, yes, I know who he is. And I know my daughter is friends with him. Wait, you're not thinking she did something?"

Russell wanted to tell the father what was going on, but legally he couldn't. "I'm sorry. There's not much more I can tell you about an ongoing investigation."

"Were you here back then, twenty years ago? Lucas Reem? Were you one of the ones we dealt with?"

Russell shook his head. "No, sir, I was not. But I'm aware of the case and what your family went through."

"Well, then you know why… Nora is… fragile. Doesn't always make the right choices in her life. Dating a man like Damon Harlow, who profits from others' suffering." Waters paused to regain his composure. "But my wife and I… see, Nora is all we've got. I-I will do whatever I've got to do to protect her."

"I'd do the same for my daughter."

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><p><strong>AN: I appreciate the reviews, so please spare a minute to leave one in the box below. Thanks for your support!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: I'd like to thank phnxgrl and joann for their reviews. In this chapter, I've summarized a few scenes to get to the Sara scenes quicker and I also added to the scene where Nora is interviewed like I did with the one from the last chapter. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 23<span>

While Doc was still busy with the autopsy of Damon Harlow, Nick went to see what he had so far so they could get a jump on the investigation. Doc told him that Harlow had eleven stab wounds that were made by a two inch wide blade. Doc had then noticed that there was a piece of something just under the ribcage. Nick took that bone fragment up to Hodges and Henry to see what they could make of it. Hodges took a look and determined the bone had been hand sharpened into a knife. Henry had run the DNA and found that the knife was human and had come from none other than the serial killer Lucas Reem.

Russell stared at the screen that showed the results Nick was showing him. "The bone of a dead serial killer, sharpened into a knife and then used to kill again."

Nick nodded. "Yeah. It's a whole new level of demented."

Russell turned around. "It's kind of like the old days when they used the bones of dead saints to make souvenirs and jewelry. The belief being that the bones still carried some of the saint's essence."

"Yeah, but these guys, these conventions, they worship serial killers. Maybe one of them took a fragment from Lucas Reem, committed a crime in a way to honor his idol."

"Right."

"Yeah."

Morgan walked in. "I agree. And I think that Damon Harlow was killed by his own merchandise. I found this article," she pulled it up on her tablet, "from a couple days ago. The same arrangement of the stuff that he had on the table from the convention today, but with one additional item, now missing." She zoomed in on the picture.

Nick noticed what she was talking about. "Bone-bladed knife. Killer must have swiped it right off of Harlow's table."

Russell nodded and Morgan continued. "I also spoke to Harlow's business associate, Alex Friel; he said he knew that Damon had been dipping into shadier collectibles, like the bones of serial killers, but he just looked the other way."

"Shady business brings shady people." Nick turned from Morgan to Russell. "Maybe Harlow was doing some after-hours deal with somebody, and the sale just went sideways."

Morgan nodded. "And Harlow paid with his life."

"So if the killer swiped the knife off the table, maybe he left something behind."

Russell agreed. "That's a good idea. Let's check the tablecloth for touch DNA."

"I was also thinking, since Harlow was dealing in illicit goods, it might make sense to learn about the product. The knife. You know, it might bring us closer to some of his shadier associates."

Morgan had a point and Russell agreed with her line of thought. "Because one of them might be our killer."

Nick pointed at the screen. "Well, based on the cortical bone width of the fragment, the bone used to make the blade came from Lucas Reem's tibia. But now listen. The prison doctor did say that Reem wasn't missing any bones at the time of his execution."

Russell nodded. "So the tibia had to be removed from him after death to make the knife."

"Exactly."

"Question is, where was Lucas Reem's tibia and the rest of him after his execution?"

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><p>Russell met with the mortician who had handled Lucas Reem's body in his office. Ray Narvick claimed that the body had been stolen while he went to take a phone call. When asked why he didn't report the theft, Narvick said he thought the families of Reem's victims should believe that Reem was nothing more than ash. He then handed over a liquor bottle he had found near his place of business after the theft occurred.<p>

Finn processed the bourbon bottle and pulled a few good prints. When she ran them, AFIS informed her that they belonged to a man named Todd Spanna. She googled his name and found a website Spanna ran that promoted him as the "Man Who Brought Down Lucas Reem". Nick came in to find out what Finn had found and told her the real story behind Spanna's involvement. Uniforms brought their body theft suspect in to PD and Nick went in to interview Spanna. Spanna told them the only people who would steal a serial Killer's body were those who sold items like that on the Blood Market.

The username and password the Spanna gave Nick got Finn into the website. Users on the site would post requests for specific items and others would respond, or sellers would post pictures of the items they had to sell and people would bid to get the item. Everything was for sale. Snuff films, bloody murder weapons; if you were looking for it, chances were someone knew how you could find it. Finn shuddered at the depravity of some human beings. She typed Lucas Reem into the search box and was redirected to a page where one user was requesting Lucas Reem bone-bladed knives frequently.

Russell walked in. "How you doing with this Blood Market Web site?"

"Well, I could use a shower after looking at some of this stuff. So it turns out that the murder weapon is not the only knife made from Lucas Reem's bones. Rumored to be eight of them out there."

Russell looked surprised. "Any idea who has them?"

"No, but there is a user who is trying to track them down. He goes by the name of DesertSky60, and he has spent the last month asking about those knives. I ran his username through a search engine, to see if it would pop up on any other site, and I found this profile. 'DesertSky60' is Bruce Waters."

Russell shook his head. This didn't make sense. Why would Bruce be trying to track down knives made from the bones of the man who'd slaughtered his daughter? It was also a disappointment. Bruce had seemed like a genuinely good man. To see that he was a potential suspect made Russell sick.

He took a step back. "Wow, Bruce Waters. The guy is chasing the relics of the man who killed his daughter."

Finn had a theory. "Yeah, maybe hunting them down so that he can destroy them once and for all?"

Russell liked her theory better than the ones in his head. "Maybe."

Finn turned back to the computer. "This is even more interesting." She clicked on a link. "During his last exchange, another user was telling him, 'There's a middleman named Damon. He can hook you up with whatever you want.'"

"Damon Harlow."

Finn nodded. "Mm-hm. Then Waters replied, 'I know Damon. Family connection. I'll see what he can do.' That was one day before Damon Harlow was killed."

"Bruce Waters didn't mention any of this when I met with him."

"So maybe he wasn't just going after the Lucas Reem knives, but the people selling them."

This theory was sounding more plausible considering what Waters had said when Russell had spoken to him earlier. "He did say that Damon Harlow was profiting from the suffering of others."

Morgan walked in with a folder. "DNA came back on the tablecloth that the knife was snatched from. There was only one identifiable contributor. A male familial match to Nora Waters."

Morgan showed the results to Morgan and Russell, who looked at each other. Their theory had just been confirmed. "It was her father. Bruce Waters picks up the knife, then he makes Damon Harlow suffer."

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><p>Nick and Sara got busy trying to track down Waters. According to Mrs. Waters, Bruce had taken off in the middle of the day and she hadn't seen him since. There had also been no activity on his credit cards up to this point. Sara had Crawford issue a BOLO on Waters' vehicle and they were monitoring his cards to see if he would surface at all. The problem was he was now their prime suspect. If he thought he was in danger of being caught, it was an easy thing to just hop on the highway and disappear.<p>

When Nick informed Russell of their progress, the lab supervisor said that Waters had been adamant about protecting his daughter. Their theory became that Waters had risked coming in after he had killed Damon to ensure that Nora didn't go down for the murder he had committed before fleeing. The order to bring Nora back in for more questions was issued. Uniforms picked her up soon after and brought her PD to wait.

Sara rolled into the informal interview room to speak to Nora Waters for the second time. "Nora, we need to talk to your father. Now, your mom says that he left after lunch and she hasn't seen him since. Do you know where we might find him?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Nora, this is serious. We need to find him."

Nora was getting agitated. "I told you, I don't know where he is."

Sara sighed. "Nora, your father was hunting Lucas Reem's remains. That hunt led him to Damon, and I think it made him snap, knowing that his surviving daughter was dating a man who kept relics of Lucas Reem. We have evidence of him there at the convention site. We believe that he killed Damon."

Nora wouldn't look at Sara. "That's not what happened."

"Then tell me what happened."

Nora finally looked up. "My dad came to me a few days ago. He had tears in his eyes. He told me what he'd heard. Pieces of Lucas Reem out there for sale," Nora had gotten to the point where she was so mad she was speaking through clenched teeth. She looked down and sniffed, collecting herself again. "He asked if Damon could help track them down."

Nora told Sara about the meeting they'd had with Damon at the convention about the knives. How Damon told them he had gotten in contact with the person selling them and had set up the meet. The seller was going to meet Waters behind the Palermo at eight o'clock and was expecting twenty grand in cash.

Sara interrupted. "Wait, are you saying that that deal was gonna happen tonight?"

Nora was confused. "A few hours ago, yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"Because Dad was hell-bent on getting those relics and destroying them." Nora acted like questioning her father's motives was ridiculous and insulting. "This might have been his only chance. I didn't want anyone getting in Dad's way."

Sara sat back in her chair. If her new theory of the crime was right, then Damon was killed by the seller of the Lucas Reem knives, not Nora's father. This meant there was a good chance that the deal was going to go sideways when the seller realized that Waters didn't have the amount he was asking for and only wanted to destroy them. Sara just hoped it wasn't too late already.

* * *

><p>Nick drove them down to the lot behind the Palermo. It was a maze of construction equipment, empty display cases, and plastic wrapped appliances. There was any number of places to hide when conducting shady business. Nick parked the car and brought her chair around so Sara could get out. They clicked on their flashlights and headed into the maze.<p>

"Deal was supposed to go down somewhere in this lot."

Nick crossed behind her and shined his light on the equipment over there. "Whatever Bruce Waters might have done, he's a desperate dad. It's hard not to feel sorry for him. He probably thought he was just doing right by his family."

Sara's beam of light landed on a pool of blood. "Nick, there's some blood over here."

Sara provided the light as Nick came over. She had failed her first firearms qualification after the forensics conference and was forced to give up her gun until she qualified. The next time she could try wasn't for a couple months, so for now, she was without a weapon. Nick walked toward the source of the blood with his hand on his gun, ready to draw if need be. They both proceeded forward until they could see around the bucket on the earth mover. Bruce Waters' body was on his back in the dirt.

"Oh, Bruce. What'd you go and get yourself into, man?"

Bruce was covered in blood, the castoff from the attack on his face and shirt as well as the dirt around him. He also had areas on his shirt that had become saturated with blood around the places he'd been stabbed. Nick knelt beside him and checked for a pulse.

"No, no, he's gone." Sara directed her light over the surrounding area while Nick called it in. "Charlie oh four Stokes. We've got a four nineteen. Roll homicide and a coroner to my location."

Sara spotted a gun and bent over in her chair to pick it up and secure it. "I got a Beretta." She ejected the magazine and checked it. "Magazine doesn't have a single scratch from loading. I don't think there's ever been a bullet in this gun. Whoever brought this had no intention of using it."

"You know what I think? I think he never had the twenty grand to buy those bone-bladed knives, and he brought that gun out here to do some negotiating."

Sara nodded. "They called his bluff. He underestimated who he was bargaining with."

Nick was counting the holes in Waters' shirt. "And it looks like he was stabbed at least ten times. And there's some silver-colored trace here." Hopefully Hodges would have some luck with it.

Sara was leaning over Waters' body looking at his face. "Nick, there's something in his mouth." She pulled a pair of tweezers from her vest and carefully extracted what was poking out from between the victim's lips.

Nick was looking at it with a little revulsion. "What the hell is that?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For anyone curious about human anatomy, the tibia is the larger of the two bones in the lower part of the leg. Also, I doubt there will be a new CSI episode on Superbowl Sunday, so I'm going to just keep working on the episodes from this past week. Stay tuned!**


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